I called to visit a family in the parish last night and, when leaving their home, I spotted the moon and “clicked”. I was reminded of Imelda May’s song “Meet you at the moon”. She said she wrote it for her mother. It was her way of connecting with her mother when they are miles apart. The moon they see, no matter where they stand, is the same moon and the suggestion is to meet there. A lovely sentiment.
We’re lookin’ at the same moon
Though we’re miles apart
We’re wishin’ on the same star
When you’re deep in my heart
I don’t know if you know
But when we miss each other so
Look up, I’ll meet you at the moon
We’re starin’ at the same sky
Strange as it seems
We’re sittin’ on the same earth
Though there’s oceans between
I don’t know if you know
But when we miss each other so
Look up, I’ll meet you at the moon
Mmm, I’m part of you
And your part of me
But it’s a cold old world
When your missin’ somebody
Without you I wouldn’t couldn’t be
So when your heart is achin’
And it can’t take much more breaking
We’re lookin’ at the same moon
Though we’re miles apart
We’re wishin’ on the same start
When your deep in my heart
I don’t know if you know
But when we miss each other so
Look up, I’ll meet you at the moon
Writer(s): Imelda May, Imelda Mary Higham
Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing (Uk) Limited, Chrysalis Music Ltd.
Earlier today I was in Kilmovee School and we talked a bit about peace and the need to pray for peace in a very troubled world. I told the children that I once heard a lovely poem that spoke of the cruelty of war. I even remembered where I first heard it. It was on a recording of Johnny McEvoy singing “The Town I Love So Well” and that I was sorry I don’t have the recording anymore. As I spoke, the teacher brought up the words of the poem on the whiteboard and we looked at it together. The poem is called “The Box” and its message seems tragically all too relevant right now. Maybe you might take a look, share a thought and say a prayer for all who are suffering because people have, once again, “battered in the lid”
The Box by Lascelles Abercrombie
Once upon a time, in the land of Hush-A-Bye, Around about the wondrous days of yore, They came across a kind of box Bound up with chains and locked with locks And labeled “Kindly do not touch; it’s war.” A decree was issued round about, and all with a flourish and a shout And a gaily colored mascot tripping lightly on before. Don’t fiddle with this deadly box,Or break the chains, or pick the locks. And please don’t ever play about with war. The children understood. Children happen to be good And they were just as good around the time of yore. They didn’t try to pick the locksOr break into that deadly box. They never tried to play about with war. Mommies didn’t either; sisters, aunts, grannies neither ‘Cause they were quiet, and sweet, and pretty In those wondrous days of yore. Well, very much the same as now, And not the ones to blame somehow For opening up that deadly box of war. But someone did. Someone battered in the lid And spilled the insides out across the floor. A kind of bouncy, bumpy ball made up of guns and flags And all the tears, and horror, and death that comes with war. It bounced right out and went bashing all about, Bumping into everything in store.And what was sad and most unfair Was that it didn’t really seem to care Much who it bumped, or why, or what, or for. It bumped the children mainly. And I’ll tell you this quite plainly, It bumps them every day and more, and more, And leaves them dead, and burned, and dying Thousands of them sick and crying. ‘Cause when it bumps, it’s really very sore. Now there’s a way to stop the ball. It isn’t difficult at all. All it takes is wisdom, and I’m absolutely sure That we can get it back into the box,And bind the chains, and lock the locks. But no one seems to want to save the children anymore. Well, that’s the way it all appears, ’cause it’s been bouncing round for years and years In spite of all the wisdom wizzed since those wondrous days of yore And the time they came across the box, Bound up with chains and locked with locks, And labeled “Kindly do not touch; it’s war.”
________________________________________
and here’s the song … the last word of the poem is there. I’d love to hear McEvoy recite this again.
And another fine song from one of my favourite singers ….
I sat at Mass in Kilmovee this morning and listened to Seán Moran read the First Reading from Isaiah. The opening line is so direct: “Seek the Lord while he may still be found” …
I had a few words loosely prepared and they floated around somewhere in my head. Seán’s line seemed to displace them – as if they weren’t already displaced enough! I read the Gospel Passage about the workers going into the vineyard at different hours of the day, even to the final hour and each receiving the same wage. The grumblings of the early morning worker are quickly voiced but the “Landowner” reassures he has done nothing wrong or underhand. If he chooses generosity that should not be the cause of any grief. A story of jealousy, envy but above all of the Love of God for all who turn towards his Vineyard with an open heart and working hands …. A lot there!
Everything in me wanted to forget about that passage and chance a one line homily! I even told the people that. I said I often wished I had the courage to just say one line and sit down. I told them too that I realised many present would support me in that and hope “today’s the day”!! Well it sort of was and it wasn’t. I told them if I had that courage, I’d just say:
SEEK THE LORD WHILE HE IS STILL TO BE FOUND ….. and sit down
I sort of did that but not quite. A few words around it but really there’s plenty in that line so for anyone (myself included) sitting in front of these words right now, maybe it’s time to “Seek the Lord while he is still to be found”. Don’t let distance of time or place obscure the search.
_________________________
From cbc.ca website
At the end of Mass I mentioned that today is Leonard Cohen’s 80th Birthday. He is someone I’d love to meet, though I am certain that will not happen. There’s something about his words, his grace and style that combines to say so much. I mentioned the chorus from his famous “Anthem” and offered it as a Post Communion Reflection.
“So ring the bell that still can ringforget your perfect offeringthere’s a crack, a crack in everythingthat’s how the light gets in”
Let’s recognise that crack today, be it a hairline fracture or gaping hole and allow it bring light to darkness, hope to despair, faith to doubt …..
Happy Birthday Leonard
ANTHEM
The birds they sang At the break of day Start again I heard them say Don’t dwell on what Has passed away Or what is yet to be. Ah the wars they will Be fought again The holy dove She will be caught again Bought and sold And bought again The dove is never free.
Ring the bells that still can ring Forget your perfect offering There is a crack in everything That’s how the light gets in.
We asked for signs The signs were sent The birth betrayed The marriage spent Yeah the widowhood Of every government Signs for all to see.
I can’t run no more With that lawless crowd While the killers in high places Say their prayers out loud. But they’ve summoned, they’ve summoned up A thundercloud And they’re going to hear from me.
Ring the bells that still can ring
You can add up the parts But you won’t have the sum You can strike up the march, There is no drum Every heart, every heart To love will come But like a refugee.
Ring the bells that still can ring Forget your perfect offering There is a crack, a crack in everything That’s how the light gets in.
Ring the bells that still can ring Forget your perfect offering There is a crack, a crack in everything That’s how the light gets in. That’s how the light gets in. That’s how the light gets in.
This I’ve included elsewhere but read recently that Leonard is turning 80 soon so thought I might feature a few of the pieces I like from him. This is one of them where he takes the words of another and so makes his own of them.
I love this song! Mary Black does a fine job but thought I’d include the Sligo Man! I am never fully sure what the first verses refers to but think the second verse is class
For all of you must discover
for all who seek to understand
for having left the path of others
you find a very special hand
and it is a holy thing
and it is a precious time
and it is the only way
forget-me-nots among the snows
it’s always been and so it goes
to ponder His death and
His life eternally ….
Jimmy MacCarthy wrote this song and I’m told was never forthcoming about its meaning. He seemed to want people to take their own meaning from it. I always felt the verse above and the closing lines refer to Christ. Recently I heard Jimmy interviewed on a morning radio show and when asked directly if the song was about faith he replied “I have never had any difficulties with the faith”. I thought it a powerful reply. He wasn’t, I imagine saying he never had questions about it but that it had remained with him through his life. How refreshing to hear someone say that.
This notion of “leaving the path of others” seems very at home in today’s Gospel passage when Peter asks Jesus to call him from the boat and to walk towards him on the water. “Come”, replied Jesus. Peter left the boat – the path of others – but quickly lost faith and hope and became fear-filled. “Help me”, he cried. Jesus offered him that “very special hand” and stabilized him again. “Why did you doubt?”
The “boat” we are told, when mentioned in Scripture, refers to the Church. In this gospel the “church” is battling with stormy waters and heavy winds. It is thrown from side to side and its occupants are full of fear. How close we might feel to that image at this time. Our Church too continues to battle with heavy winds and swollen waters. In parts of our world, this is certainly the case today. Into all of this walks Jesus, seeking to bring calm with every step on troubled waters. Often we don’t seem to see or hear him though.
With Peter then, maybe it’s a day to call out to him – to ask him to draw us closer to him, to move towards him. Even if we feel we are sinking, an outstretched arm and a cry for help is enough. He will not let us sink. Stepping into our church, being allowed and welcomed into our circle of existence, can only bring calm. “It’s always been and still it goes ….”
(On Good Friday, I used these lines in Urlaur Church at the Stations of The Cross. I made a little recording that I had posted on the blog but forgotten about til now so am going to share here as well!)
Our website uses cookies to provide you the best experience. However, by continuing to use our website, you agree to our use of cookies. For more information, read our Cookie Policy.
I called to visit a family in the parish last night and, when leaving their home, I spotted the moon and “clicked”. I was reminded of Imelda May’s song “Meet you at the moon”. She said she wrote it for her mother. It was her way of connecting with her mother when they are miles apart. The moon they see, no matter where they stand, is the same moon and the suggestion is to meet there. A lovely sentiment.
Posted with Blogsy
I love this song! Mary Black does a fine job but thought I’d include the Sligo Man! I am never fully sure what the first verses refers to but think the second verse is class
