Peace DreamA clear and clean Midsummer morning,a blue sky, green leavesand Robin song in the garden.But behind it allI hear the moancarried on the rising sunin the air, in the water.The holy placeis woundedagain.The cries go upfrom both sides,pain begetting pain anger begetting angerhate begetting hateand always the womenand the childrensuffer first, suffer most.The world’s wound made manifestin the very place of it’s healing.this is paradoxthis is pain.And I think of the Muslim familywho were my friends growing up.How they fled from terror.How they loved and laughedand wept.How their son was terrified to stillness just seeing a policeman on the street.He showed me the Mosque.I showed him the Church.How their daughters wanted to be doctors and poets and scientists.How their father, a botanist, just wanted to dwell among the plants and not the politics.How their mother laughed with my mother in the same way, in the same tones.And I think of those ancestors of mine who were Jewish. One great, great grandmother at least. Known to her small village neighbours as the “Jewess”, they loved her bread, and marvelled at her beauty.What journey did they make? What were they all fleeing, but pain and loss? (Full poem in the pics above)

Father Richard Hendrick OFMCap, the well-known friar and author who is simply known as Brother Richard, was elected Provincial Minister of the Irish Capuchin Franciscans on 6 June. His election marks ...