Here is a new poem I wrote to go with a festival of lessons and carols which was part of a touring concert put on by Keith and Kristin Getty called ‘An Irish Christmas’. I was their guest for four of the shows on their tour and had the great joy of ‘premiering’ this poem at Carnegie Hall. I also paste in below a link to my little ‘Speak in the library youtube channel where you can hear me introduce and read the poem.
A Tale Of Two Gardens
A Tale Of Two Gardens
God gave us all a garden once
And walked with us at eve
That we might know him face to face
With no need to believe.
But we denied and hid from him
Concealing our own shame
Yet he still came to look for us
And call us each by name.
He found us where we hid from him
He clothed us in his grace
But still we turned our backs on him
And would not see his face.
So now he comes to us again
Not as a Lord most high
But weak and helpless as we are
That we might hear him cry.
And he who clothed us in our need
Lies naked in the straw
That we might wrap him in our rags
Whom once we fled in awe.
The strongest comes in weakness now
A stranger to our door
The king forsakes his palaces
And dwells amongst the poor.
And where we hurt he hurts with us
And when we weep he cries
He knows the heart of all our hurts
The inside of our sighs.
He does not look down from above
But gazes up at us
That we might take him in our arms
Who always cradles us.
And if we welcome him again
With open hands and heart
He’ll plant his garden deep in us
The end from which we start.
And in that garden there’s a tomb
Whose stone is rolled away
Where we and all we’ve ever loved
Were lowered in the clay.
But Lo! the tomb is empty now
And, clothed in living light,
His ransomed people walk with One
Who came on Christmas night.
So come Lord Jesus, find in me
The child you came to save
Stoop tenderly with wounded hands
And lift me from my grave.
Be with us all Emmanuel
And keep us close and true
Be with us till that Kingdom comes
Where we will be with you.
Here’s the youtube of me reading it:
Malcolm Guite 
Lovely.. touches my heart!
Blessings & love… Milly
Thank you, Malcolm, for sharing your gifts so radically. How hopeful and encouraging is the message of this poem when so many of us in this world live amid the rubble. I will cherish the images of a garden deep in us that is the end from which we start again (a nod to T.S. Eliot?) and of Jesus stooping over all and tenderly lifting us from our graves. Praying for new life for you and for this world this year. God bless you.
Thanks Angela. That line was indeed a nod to TSE!
Hi Malcolm, the richness of a wee dram and the waft of black cherry and vanilla bring back so many Christmas memories…although the latter of the vices I reluctantly (but now happily) gave up over 20 years ago! I thoroughly enjoyed your reading. It’s an exquisite poem from a wonderful wordsmith.
Robert
Thanks. Glad you enjoyed it
Thanks!
Very dear Gail,
I opened the Amazon gift bag and found the DVD of Series 4 of All Creatures Great and Small – many thanks indeed. I shall enjoy watching it in the days ahead when we have a holiday time-table. To-morrow of course we are going to Ampleforth for the traditional Stephen’s Day get-together.
And I shall look forward to receiving GUTD – a gift that lasts through the entire year, extra special.
Did I tell you how well GW’s book on the Vatican Council is reading in the ref?
I hope you have had a very happy day and that Robert has behaved himself impeccably. What a happy reunion you will have with Kathy – how long do you have to wait?
Sr Andrea has had an anxious time as one of hr priest brothers, who suffers from Parkinson’s dementia, looked as if he was dying. She was desperate to go to his side in Glasgow, but she at last has a date for her much-needed second hip operation so her other siblings have persuaded her that she must not at any cost risk an infection…
Here’s a rather nice poem by the chap I babysat when he was 5 and I was 17…
Lots of love, and blessings for the whole of 2024,
Philippa
Sent from my iPad
Hello Philippa this has appeared as a comment on my blog but I think you intended it as an email to someone else. Do you want me to remove it from the blog?
M
Oh, the Gospel, the Gospel spoken in truth and written in rhyme! Thank you, Malcom, and Merry Christmas!
Thanks
Really wonderful!! Thank you!!
So many lines that make the heart stop in awe. Thank you.
Thanks
I keep trying to leave a comment, and it seems to not be working. I wonder why? I really enjoyed this one, but then I love the theme of the garden (and if this decides to comment, I’ll further share exactly why!)
Aha! It has worked, so I’ll try again:
Malcolm, I get emails from your poetry posts and read them frequently, but, I must say, this might be one of my favorites – if only because it’s a theme I also love! I love how this is about the Garden and the Christmas story, and that it was for the Gettys (whom I’ve always loved for their modern hymnary, faith, and heritage as I am scotch/irish myself) – I wrote this piece about the Garden and the Easter story! Enjoy!
The Gardener
It all began in a garden – –
The life, the love, the story,
The betrayal, the darkness,
The death, the never-ending worry.
The garden was abandoned,
Guarded by a sword-
Until that coming time
Of the fulfillment of His word.
The seeds of the garden
Were spread upon the land,
Handed down through generations
Of chosen, holy men.
The seeds, they sailed
Upon that renowned ark,
And they continued traveling
Through ages dim and dark.
They traveled through Abraham
To out-number all the stars,
Then continued on through Isaac
And his wife whom he adored.
Jacob spread the seeds so wide,
Through all his many sons –
And yet this garden story
Had barely just begun.
Joseph took along with him
Those seeds into Egypt.
And though from here the story grew bleak,
God’s promises were kept.
The seeds now grew
Into staff and rod
That Moses and Aaron held,
Obeying the voice of God.
The seeds, abused and crushed,
Were spread across the sea,
Lying dormant in a desert
For what seemed an eternity.
Until the day the seeds were brought
To a land of milk and honey,
And there once more they spread
And grew and became many.
As they grew, a new garden emerged –
Perhaps of David’s own planting – –
Where is this branch of Jesse’s stem?
When will be the promises’ granting?
The seeds were thrown, as in a blast,
Divided in all directions;
And darkness filled that new garden
Through judgement and correction.
Then, late one night in early Fall,
The new blossom bloomed – –
Could it be? Might He be?
Has He come so soon?
The story continues in a garden,
One dark and stormish night – –
The full moon gleamed with brilliance,
Casting shadows dark with fright.
This Seed, The Very Seed,
Knelt and, in prayer, wept –
Deep within the garden groves
As His own vigil kept.
He wept with tears, he wept with blood,
Somewhere in the garden a “hiss” – –
In the darkness came betrayal,
Sealed in the garden with a kiss.
************************************
And on a tree The Gardener died,
Killed by His own vine,
Comforted by nought
But wood and sour wine.
Of course, the earth shook,
It quaked and stormed with black – –
For the earth knew its Gardener,
And it would not hold Him back.
The body then was laid to rest,
Inside an empty tomb,
Buried just like the springtime seeds
To emerge anew.
The story culminates in a garden,
Where she sowed her bitter tears,
And she hailed to The Gardener
“Have you seen him? He’s not here!”
The Gardener turned and looked at her,
And suddenly she could see
That all along The Gardener
Was His own Seed.
Oh what rapture! Oh, what joy!
The Gardener with Endless Bloom!
So we till and we tend
Until The Gardener comes again soon.
I was so moved by this when I heard it at Wheaton College. Thank you for sharing your gifts so generously. My Christmas season has been wonderfully rich, recalling that night and I’m introducing everyone to you and your work!
Thanks
Lovely poem. Thank you and a V. Happy Christmass to you
Thanks
I have only very recently discovered your poetry. The first was a Facebook post of ‘Refugee’, and now this. I have always loved poetry, and am so thankful to have found yours. It has beauty and the power to touch hearts that ordinary prose does not. Thank you!
Many thanks. Glad you’ve found my work
Like the others say, thank you Malcolm, and blessings to you!