Happy Christmas everyone. My year has been full of this little boy, my grandson. To watch the wide world through his eyes has been nothing less than joy.

Thankyou to so many people, near and far, for your friendship and companionship this year. For Rob, by co-conspirator in the Proost thing, for those friends who come to small islands with me, to the Iona Community folk, to Andy, Karl and Steve, all just out of hospital after operations/illness, to my lovely family and everyone who – even by accident – has dipped into this blog.

To old friends and new ones.

May you find meaning and moments of simple joy as this Christmas unfolds.

Every year I try to write a poem that takes me into a new Christmas. This year has been harder than most. What can be said about here, now?

This is all I have for you;

Bone

There are clouds in the eastern sky

Made from pulverised houses

And powdered bone

Humans are expended, yet

Feasting is not suspended

For we must love

Love, love

We must love