ache
For chronic illness, embodiment, and the quiet violence of pain.
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Hours. Pump. Grace.
As I begin another week of dialysis, I come as I am—carrying tiredness, hope, and whatever this day holds. This hymn was written in the quiet place where machines hum and my heart keeps its own steady rhythm. It reminds me that Christ is here with me: in the care I receive, in the long… Continue reading
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Fall. Grace. Love.
This morning did not unfold as expected. Before Mass began, our celebrant was injured in a fall and taken to hospital. In her absence, the community gathered for Morning Prayer and the Litany. The form of worship changed, but prayer continued. What had been prepared for Eucharist became something simpler and quieter, shaped by attentiveness… Continue reading
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Grace. Place. Presence.
This hymn grew out of a quiet attentiveness to place—to fields, water, stone, and memory—and to the way faith so often takes root through landscape rather than abstraction. Drawing on the life and legacy of St Mel, it traces a spiritual geography shaped by County Longford and Ardagh: hills walked slowly, wells where prayer lingers,… Continue reading
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The Curious Case of the McDonald’s Brownie
Some days, the universe really does like to test your commitment to staying regulated. On Wednesday, I ordered a chocolate brownie at the McDonald’s self-service kiosk. Paid for it, waited… only to be told it had to be refunded because they weren’t ready yet. Fair enough. Mildly irritating, but logical. They were still frozen, and… Continue reading
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Claimed. Accompanied. Sent.
I wrote this hymn slowly, paying attention to water. Not water as an idea, but water as something that moves, waits, gathers, seeps, and returns. Water that has weight and sound and temperature. Water that holds memory. Baptism is often talked about as a moment—something that happens and is done. For me, baptism has always… Continue reading
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Succession. Loss. Continuity.
For more than seventy years, the sixth of February carried a singular weight in the United Kingdom and other Commonwealth realms. As Accession Day, it marked the moment when private loss and public duty first converged, and over time it became a fixed point in the national memory—quietly observed rather than celebrated. I wrote this… Continue reading
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Flour. Aprons. Presence.
For many of us, faith is encountered not first through abstraction or silence, but through texture, rhythm, repetition, and shared work. This poem emerges from the sensory world of baking—warmth, fragrance, patience, and touch—and attends to grace as something embodied and practiced rather than merely believed. Written to be read, prayed, or sung, it traces… 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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God’s Whisper Everywhere
A short poem in celebration of God’s whisper written during a restless night. Continue reading
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Platform Wait
The platform wind cuts through my coat, My patience wears too thin;Two hours between each wretched train— What state are we all in?A bank-day hush lies on the tracks, The cold seeps through my bones;The loudspeaker stays deathly mute, Ignoring all my groans.I pace the boards, I stamp my feet, I mutter at the sky;So who designed this dismal plan And… Continue reading
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Umbrellas. Flowers. Puddle.
The rain beats softly on the glass;the ward keeps steady time.A holiday that will not pausefor weather, will, or rhyme.Coats drip in corners, umbrellas closelike flowers bruised by rain.The nurses move with gentle poisethrough hours long and plain.Your blood flows out, your blood flows in—a tide you cannot sway.Yet kindness holds you, calm and thin,through… Continue reading
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Walk. Prayer. Grace – “We walk Saint Brigid’s way today”
We walk Saint Brigid’s way today We walk Saint Brigid’s way todayThrough Monasterevin’s grace;With pilgrim hearts and steady stepsWe seek God’s holy place.We gather at the parish church,One family in prayer;To bless the road, to share the light,And meet Christ walking there.We thank you, God, for shepherds sentTo guide this flock with care;For bishops who,… Continue reading
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A Lenten Chapter in The Church Is Open
Lent is not a performance. It’s a season of showing up. The Church Is Open: Lent continues The Church Is Open series with quiet, story-shaped reflections rooted in the life of a city parish that keeps its doors open when faith feels fragile and answers are scarce. This is not a manual for Lent. It’s… Continue reading
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Seedtime. Light. Pilgrimage.
This hymn is offered as a prayer for the turning of the year, when winter loosens its grip and the first signs of new life appear in field, garden, and soul. Rooted in the landscapes of Kildare and shaped by the rhythms of early spring, it gives thanks for creation renewed and for God’s living… 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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Ground. Way. Breath.
I’ve been sitting for a while with the idea that faith is something made as much as it is believed—shaped by hands, time, weather, and patience. This hymn grew out of that sense of slow, faithful craft. It’s written with stone in mind: quarries and chisels, walls raised and repaired, the quiet devotion of people… Continue reading
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Hidden. Humble. Everywhere.
Celebrating those who proclaim the Word with care—parish readers, musicians, writers, and the everyday saints who let Scripture breathe in our lives. A new hymn, inspired by the Book of Kells, now on NeuroDivine.blog Continue reading
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Psalms. Places. Presence.
Psalms. Places. Presence. Hymns shaped by landscape, memory, and the quiet work of beginning again. A small book of thresholds for anyone who finds prayer in the ordinary. Continue reading
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Andrew. Richard. Niamh.
Home woven in three strands: partner, creatures, grace Some prayers begin in silence. Others begin in the small, ordinary movements of a home—the click of the kettle, the soft thump of paws on the stairs, the familiar presence of the person who shares your days. This new hymn grew out of that kind of holiness:… Continue reading
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