Good Friday

Here are two writings from several years ago, one written on Good Friday, the other about it.  My father was a carpenter and this has always made some aspects of the life of the Galilean carpenter particularly close to my heart.

One is a  ‘Good Friday journal‘ web page (life before blogs), a meditation about nails and even a tips on what to do if a nail bends.

Being the son of a carpenter I was fascinated looking at the nail realising how much went into the design of each one. …

So much detail, such care, such knowledge built into something bought and used in hundreds of thousands each day.

Perhaps this is true of people too, six billion, teaming and crowding over distant lands …

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The second is a poem about “the carpenter“, written the same Easter:

… I do remember
hands reaching out
finding themselves for the first time
seizing the air
holding nothing
until touching, holding, the hard edge of wood

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