JAMARTLONDON - jenny (jennifer) meehan

website master image40349_mirror2

St Julian/At One

To Saint Julian




To Saint Julian..

I have not heard of you,

I have not seen you.


Some strange distant figure;

An emerging, imaginary presence with an  unexpected

gift in hand.


Within your four walls, the small rectangle looks out.

You look within.


The sides of your cell  are roughly marked and mottled.

You play with light,

which moving across the day casts itself into

union with your mind;



on the source of our reason to live on.



Our reason to love, even within the pain;

The darkness we fear around us;


The black nights we all must face when forced into

our own heart’s cell;


the confines of

our  humble place.




It is not the now, the then, the will be...

I see all three

in one small speck

which running down splatters,  splinters,  the hardness...


of all dimensions

of our being.



Catastrophe brought us a gift  in Christ’s  falling;

One who was God, and also  man.


And woman?

Is this so?  If true,  my heart cries childishly  for  warm embrace.


For softness.


A cover hangs  white on your arm ,


ready to wrap  around me.




I need a way forward...

the indistinct marks of the walls  enclose.


I push through, unknowing,  into  the Spirit which first bore me;

Make certain the  gentle ring,  containing all  which took away my joy.


And love.


I recall how  misty fear raged,  spitting brimstone,  not from another world, but from ours;





Sometimes we see only hurt, in the living of life.




Oh  mother me, my God and maker.

Mother me with all I hardly knew , but cried for;

Fill  absent time with your presence.



Being  wounded is not hard.  All enter in

to  our own cell,  make our vacant space full,  but still  remain empty.  



How far we have fallen!

Yet, there is the always the holding.



You are holding.


You circle me.


Is this true,  Maker of our being?

That you did not tear us  away from the milk of your sustaining,

or reject  us, leaving us alone,


But rather the general state of things  hid your love

for one fleck of  eternity?

(though it  does seem  long,  when  eyes see only brokenness).


But you came God, incarnate.


And  light changes;  It changes everything.


Our image alters,

In the light.  


You are with us.



I look back to you , St Julian, in the refuge you took, because life is not easy.


“All is well”  your voice came to me

not as platitude, nor even a passing peace;

Rather as hope, because Christ’s love is better than life.


We look beyond, look through, and look within.

Our search is not in vain.


Life hits hard each tender mortal who struggles forward,

Clothed in the flesh that does not cover

Our multitude of sin.


See the blows of life on our bodies

But see too,  God’s covering

within the blood of our  new birth

and hear the Christ-breath;  a  mother’s voice


“All  is  well”.




jenny meehan




comforter st julian jenny meehan webprops

Above: The Comforter painting by Jenny Meehan.  


The writings of St Julian of Norwich have been a good find for me.


And the condensed version: At One  





At One


My process led lyrically abstract painting is one part of my poetic expression. The other is my written response which creates a place between the two I hope you can inhibit.  There is tension and paradox in life which we view as affliction, yet I have found that it is often the place where we find “God is”.  Here are some words relating to this painting:


I need a way forward

The indistinct marks of the walls enclose me

I push through, unknowing

into the Spirit

who first bore me.


It is not the now, the then, the will be

I see all three

in one small speck

which running down

splatters, splinters

the hardness

of all dimensions

of our being.