writing
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“At Evening, God Has Spoken”: A Vespers Hymn on Psalm 110 (76 76 D)
110 has long been one of the traditional psalms of Sunday Vespers. My new hymn, At Evening, God Has Spoken, reflects on that ancient text through the quiet landscapes of the Irish midlands—heathered hills, the Barrow’s waters, and the stillness of evening prayer—resting in Christ our High King through the night. Continue reading
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The muted blue
I found myself shaping these lines in the crisp hush of early frost, walking toward the station as the birds lifted their chorus into the pale blue morning. The early frost along the lane,The breath that clouds the morning air;The jays cry out their sharp refrain,And rooks rise ragged from their lair.Blue tits dart quick… Continue reading
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A Quiet House, A Returning Train
Today I found myself writing two small Common Metre poems—companions to one another. Andrew was in Dublin for a course, and the house felt different in his absence. Not lonely exactly. Just altered. Softer around the edges. The Sunday light lay still. The cats took up their posts. The kettle hummed. Pancakes became a small,… Continue reading
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The Icicle Lounge: Come in from the cold
Inspired by the Birth of The Icicle Lounge, a series of short stories is now taking shape. While each piece stands on its own, they are quietly connected by the Lounge itself — a shared setting where different lives unfold. I hope you enjoy this second story. The Icicle Lounge was not supposed to exist in… Continue reading
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The Icicle Lounge: The Night the Hand was Offered
Inspired by the Birth of The Icicle Lounge, a series of short stories is now taking shape. While each piece stands on its own, they are quietly connected by the Lounge itself — a shared setting where different lives unfold. I hope you enjoy this first story. The newcomer had walked past the frosted windows… Continue reading
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The Petals Beneath the Morning Light.
The first person to notice the flowers was Mrs Byrne. as she arrived early to light the candles before the eight o’clock Mass. The sun had only now begun to slip through the high windows, with long golden stripes lying across the tiled floor. There, caught in the light like a secret being revealed, lay… Continue reading
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Returning to the Light: A Visual Journey for Lent 2026
As we approach the Lenten season, our community at NeuroDivine is reflecting on what it means to emerge from the shadows—gently, honestly, and in our own time. Our 2026 theme, Returning to the Light, is beautifully embodied in this year’s commemorative artwork. It invites us to pause. To breathe. To witness the movement from the… Continue reading
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Faith. Truth. Welcome.
With the twelve bells of St Patrick’s overhead, I offer this hymn as a prayer for Ballymena: for its people, its churches, and Christ’s light in the valley we call home. 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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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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Rooted. Gathered. Blessed.
NeuroDivine has always been about recognising the sacred woven through our whole selves—our minds, our bodies, our ways of sensing and moving through the world. It’s a space where difference becomes a doorway, where the textures of neurodivergent experience are met with gentleness, dignity, and grace. This hymn grew from the ancient devotion of Tantum… Continue reading
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Magic. Street. Stars.
A playful challenge turned into a mythic tapestry—where friends appear as fire, earth, air, water, and rhythm. From Hogwarts to Folson Street, from conventions to classrooms, each meeting shines like a star in the story of belonging. Continue reading
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Coat. Bear. Grace.
Reflections from the dialysis chair—on presence, partnership, and the stories still unfolding. Dialysis takes it out of you. The hours are long, the movement minimal, and the body feels like it’s been borrowed by a machine. For me—an autistic gay Irishman living in Kildare and receiving treatment in Port Laoise—it’s not just about the treatment.… Continue reading
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Stitched into the Rhythm
Stitched into silence and shared care, we mark time together—patients, nurses, rhythms—held in the grace of dialysis presence. Continue reading
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