A poem of thanksgiving is due
for the love of Greg and Elsie
who became my parents in 1948,
for Tony my brother, Eliza my granny,
Christopher and Roger my friends,
all who made me who I am.
For Thorne near Doncaster
and Giggleswick and its School
where good teachers fostered
curiosity about the way things are
and capacity to think, write and act
to make a difference in the world.
For St John’s College in Oxford,
John White setting my sights on Chemistry,
John Hooper pointing me to God,
a scooter accident concentrating my mind
and a voice in the College Garden
calling me to the priesthood.
Thanksgiving today for half my life
spent with Anne, David, John then James
in Guyana, Coventry, London and Sussex,
the training of priests, vitalising of churches
bringing love to people, people to God,
with Anne, my helper and soulmate.
On my 75th birthday I rejoice in my family
though Carer for Anne with Alzheimer’s.
Lamenting what God allows to be taken
we welcome heaven’s gifts here and now,
letting go of the past and looking forward to
seeing God face to face with all the saints.
John Twisleton 29 November 2023
