GoodFriday
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When the Writer is Undone
I didn’t expect to cry at my own writing. But rereading a quiet Good Friday moment, I found truth waiting—closer, heavier, and more recognisable than before. Continue reading
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A Good Friday hymn along Ireland’s great river — “The sky grows dark on Calv’ry’s hill” (DCM)
The Shannon beneath the Cross—The sky grows dark on Calv’ry’s hill 1.The sky grows dark on Calv’ry’s hill,the Shannon’s waters sigh;by Clonmacnoise the reeds bow low,its ancient stones reply.A wounded Christ hangs silent now,His final hour is nigh;and all the land holds trembling breathto watch the Saviour die.2.“My God, where are you in this pain?”His… Continue reading
NeuroDivine 