Another day, another reflection. Except no two days are truly the same and even in the mundane there will be things to bring us out of repetition and into something more meaningful. Today was not a normal day as I made a decision to step out of the formal vocations programme of the Church of England and take time to develop myself further away from the demands of a timetable and lots of meetings. It wasn't an easy decision, but with a lot going on in my life right now, it became clear that now is not the right time. Instead, I will look for the time to come when I step back on and continue this journey to its conclusion.

Nothing is going to change here, however. The Church of the South Pacific will continue to be a safe place for spiritual discussion and I'll continue to share sermons and reflections and a bit of my heart.

To whit: continuing this week's theme of creativity and hoping that it will encourage or indoor others to share as well, here is another poem.

Cross Country Wrote:Pilgrims;
Pace held by splintering wood,
Silence held by memory and
Tradition,
In a bubble, bursting
ever outwards:
Ripple words
And a Peace
Shared
Which pierces stillness.

And marching they pass, through
This green and pleasant land,
A single,
bare
tree.

I wrote this many years ago after taking part in a pilgrimage walk carrying a cross through countryside not far from where I now live, on Good Friday. I had no idea, then, that I would love down here or that the tradition it speaks of would be one I would feel a call to become ordained within. It's fascinating to see now, hints of how I might respond to these same ideas a decade or more later.

I hope the poem captures the solemnity of the day, the journey of pilgrimage and the hope of the cross, but what do you see in it?