rift
A tear in the fabric—where reality bends and the unexpected slips through.
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Sacred Imagination, Wonderfully Wired
Many of the images that accompany my poems and hymns are created with the assistance of artificial intelligence, which I use as a humble instrument in the service of the Creator. As someone wonderfully wired, I believe the varied ways our minds perceive, feel, and imagine are not accidents but expressions of the imago Dei—the… Continue reading
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Held in the humming
A poem expressing the medical treatment I experience. The morning hums its fragile tune,the clinic lights grow bright;on Monday, Wednesday, Friday dawnsI take my steady rite.The lines connect with practiced care,the blood begins its round;a pilgrim held by humming pumps,yet rooted in this ground.Twice yearly comes the Dublin trip,a check that keeps me true;HIV’s a… Continue reading
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Kept on honour
From Bushmills’ coast the malts arise,Black Bush with warmth that stays;The ten-year bright with morning light,The sixteen deep as days.The Reserve kept for nights of cheer,Firelight falling low now;A quiet dram, the hour held still,As amber shadows glow.A pink gin softens fading light,Sloe gin warms the cool air;And port, when taken gently warm,Brings peace beyond… Continue reading
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Silence. Suffering. Steadfastness.
A day of uneasy memory, quiet courage, and layered history. On 30 January, NeuroDivine holds space for complexity, conscience, and the land’s long remembering—and offers a new hymn rooted in Leinster’s fields for those who honour your servant Charles with tenderness rather than triumph. Continue reading
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Brigid. Pat. Sarah.
From Brigid’s fire to today’s Church, a hymn of gratitude and hope, attentive to calling and the Spirit’s movement in an Irish Church still becoming Continue reading
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River. Forest. Abbey.
The River Bann has long been a place of refuge for me. As a Venture Scout, I learned its rhythms from the seat of a canoe—the quiet pull of the current, the soft slap of water against the hull, the sense that the river always knew where it was going. I found the same calm… Continue reading
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✨ Small Wins, Big Sensory Joy ✨
This morning’s McDonald’s Sausage & Egg McMuffin was perfect—properly cooked, not burnt, just right. For many of us, food isn’t “just food”; it’s a sensory experience that can make or break the start of a day. When something is done well, it deserves to be named. So I shared positive feedback with the team. Consistency,… Continue reading
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Boundaries. Café. Overwhelm.
Today in Caffè Nero, I found myself in one of those situations that many neurodivergent people will recognise—where a simple moment becomes unexpectedly intrusive and overwhelming. A woman at the next table began asking me a series of personal questions: When I tried to disengage with a simple “Oh just leave me alone,” she continued… Continue reading
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Star. Blackthorn. Light.
On this Epiphany morning—Nollaig na mBan—we gather around quiet revelations: frost on bog cotton, bare branches holding promise, and the steady light that guides us home. A new hymn rises from the Irish landscape, blessing the unseen, the faithful, and the radiant Christ who meets us in every dawn. Continue reading
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Riverbank. Roundabout. Peace.– A hymn inspired by Psalm 23 — “The Lord is here beside me now” (CM)
The Lord is here beside me now 1. The Lord is here beside me now, in every step I take; He leads me by the Barrow’s edge as morning starts to break. 2. Along the quiet canal-side path He steadies heart and mind; in all the routes my day unfolds His faithful care I find.… Continue reading
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Light. Frost. Presence.
The tenth day of Christmas rarely draws attention. No feast, no fanfare, no special observance in the Church of Ireland—just a quiet winter day held within Christmastide’s long, slow glow. Yet for many of us, especially those who move through the world with neurodivergent rhythms, these “unmarked” days can feel like home. They offer space… Continue reading
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Name. Covenant. Praise.
New Year’s Day in the Christian calendar invites us into a quieter beginning than the world expects. While fireworks fade and resolutions rush in, the Church turns its gaze to something far smaller and far more tender: an eight‑day‑old child, named and marked in the flesh. The Feast of the Circumcision and Naming of Christ… Continue reading
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Shift. Grace. Arrival.
A quiet reflection for a day shifted out of rhythm—when plans move, the centre wavers, and yet presence meets you exactly where you are. In the midst of a rearranged moment, a promise settles close. Continue reading
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Clay. Cornerstone. Calm.
A quiet meditation for a day that doesn’t follow the script, on being clay, being carried, and being steadied by the One who holds everything together. Continue reading
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Dawn. Light. Rising.
A quiet reflection from the organ bench on the day when light begins to return. Continue reading
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Doorways. Darkness. Dawn.
In the deepening dark, a key turns—and hope finds its way in. Continue reading
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Hidden. Growing. Faithful.
A reflection on the quiet places where hope takes root and grace begins to grow. Continue reading
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Fire. Law. Arm.
A flame that does not consume, a covenant that honours difference, an arm stretched out to redeem. Continue reading
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Wisdom. Hidden. Tradition.
A cryptic note in the Prayer Book calendar whispers of O Sapientia. Without the story, it slips past unnoticed. Yet here, at Advent’s threshold, Wisdom speaks—ordering all things sweetly, inviting us to pause and learn the way of prudence. Continue reading
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Waiting. Practising. Proclaiming.
Caught between Advent’s hush and Christmas’ song, even the organ bench becomes a place of paradox—where longing and joy are rehearsed side by side. Continue reading
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