I found myself on a beach in Holywood

I met myself anew on the beach of Holywood
That amongst the turns, driftwood and plastic bottles,
Fanned by the fresh air and chill of a January day,
I encountered my pain – again self-neglected.

Why do I – resident of busy cities,
Always end up living on the outside edge of me,
That in the pretense of business,
Avoid living from my centre,
The place of ordinariness,
Of joy and pain
The place where I can fully live of God

When will I learn,
That living on my edge
Impoverishes my soul
Starves my vitality
Reducing me to a hell of self-loathing
And inner despair

In this sunny Irish day,
My God brings me up short
Applies a kick to my stubborn backside
Creation draws me back to the centre
As the Spirit of God shouts at my deaf ears
To open my senses – to see what is before me

So for now it is pain
Tomorrow it will be relief
That again I engage with me feelings
And feel human again,
Balance and peace will be restored tomorrow

As I feel the cold water
The grit of sandy beach
The shells of discarded life
The smell of decaying seaweed
The taste of salt

I again encounter Grace
The divine made present
That shouts to me to listen
To be loved, to be cherished
To belong when I am in exile
To trust when I feel lost
To believe when I feel liminal
To see when I am broken
To hold when I am lonely
To seek when I feel judged

Our great God, that beckons me
Draws me to my core.

Tags: Ian Mobsby, poem, I found myself in Holywood