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| STABLE |
| The children sang |
| The skies were blue |
| Turkana |
| WORD |
A place for beasts,
straw and muck more suited for their needs than those of man.
And yet, a stable was the place where God
chose
to unveil his face.
Among the dirt and dung,
air heavy, light poor,
among the beasts, the greatest made himself the least,
the eternal framed himself in time,
with death, disease,
disgrace and crime.
Fettered to a single space, the son of God revealed his face.
C A Earnshaw
2001
The children sang, clapped their hands and danced,
Recited passages committed to memory, each with a moral stance
Avoid prostitution, don't take bribes, admonishing finger to the fore
As each child stepped back, another took the floor
Their eyes lit up, their faces beamed, as Navin got them jumping
Cheering now for India, now that was really something
Lined up in their uniforms while we milled around in ours
Less concerned than we were when the sunshine turned to showers
But the thing that really hit us was the beauty of their song
Their hands keeping the rhythm, their voices young and strong
All cyclists had abandoned now the table and the tent
The song finished, the teacher near, I asked him what it meant
The song, he told me, says 'AIDS kills everyone
Rich or poor, old or young, AIDS kill everyone'
A simple truth for Africa, taught through lilting song,
A threat for all these children, AIDS kills everyone
C A Earnshaw
5/11/04
The skies were blue, the sun shone too,
When Stephen were a lad.
The winters cold, it always snowed,
and skating could be had
on Four Wents Pond,
where every frond and leaf was touched with white
till frozen through and turning blue
you went home for a bite.
The pretty girls would always smile,
when Stephen were a lad,
and made you think you had some style,
which couldn't be all bad.
They filled the room with cheap perfume and took your breath away,
when you put down your toys and found
some other games to play.
Oh we were indestructible,
when Stephen were a lad,
our hopes were incorruptible,
our passions were all mad.
We never hurt, we never cried,
and our memories never lied.
The skies were blue, the sun shone too,
when Stephen were a lad
C A Earnshaw
11.03.04
Happy to welcome
donors and visitors,
Turkanas are friendly
and greet us with dance.
And we're strangely humbled,
fish out of water,
happy and grateful
that we have the chance
to visit these people,
to gain some more insight
into the needs
of this arid land.
The answer is water,
drilling for water,
conserving water,
and building stone dams.
We visit the projects
We're moved by the children.
We're moved that the adults
bless us with thanks.
We fly out that evening,
receivers and visitors,
discussing Turkana.
Remembering the dance
C A Earnshaw
1/11/04
When the word of God came down,
born in a middle eastern town,
and took on flesh
he could not speak
but was a child, poor and weak,
who had to learn what he first created,
so his message could be clearly stated
and, by word and deed,
communicated.
The Word, unable to speak a word.
C A Earnshaw
2000