Posted in Just outside my gate

Twinkling lights…

“I rest in the grace of the world and I am free.”
― Wendell Berry, The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry

I settled
by night
in the tender fold
of twinkling lights
and the moon’s
soft hold…
I was touched
by the peace
of wild things,
the evening’s stillness
against my skin,
and
I sank into lawns
of emerald green,
with a tingly feeling
of the unseen,
when words mean less
than the movement
of love,
I’m bathed
in essence
of the stars above…

Posted in Gratitude

The call…

The waters call
from translucent depths,
to be as one
with nature’s breath…
To listen to
the rhythm
of the tides,
to play in rock pools
like a carefree child…

To reclaim
the taste
of salty air,
and feel hard ground
absorb despair…

Barefoot bathers reunite,
in a delicious glow
of warm sunlight,
forgetting the suffering
that plagues our earth,
drinking the ambrosia
of healing mirth…

surfers stand in the rush of the waves,
riding the swell in holy praise!

along with fishermen who watched by night
and feel the thrill of an early bite..

we soak up
the fragrance
of ocean spray,
tangible magic of a summer’s day,..

Posted in a remembrance

A dusty road…

A dusty road took me there, to a tin house, unmistakably shanty in appearance, it still had a certain appeal-standing out in the parched scrubland.
Its blushing red roof caught my attention.
There’s no one home now, the shutters are firmly closed and a deep silence rings through the rooftops.
Stillness lies on the soft dune-like earth, where once it bore unrefined food.
A shadowed porch is cool in the summer heat and I can almost hear the echo of Father’s tall tales and the reek of his tobacco.
The outhouse has run dry.
The hallway still remembers the laughter of children and the cockerel crowing in the backyard at dawn. There’s a chimney blackened with soot from an old woodstove.

We had so much time on our hands back then, Mother would peel potatoes to roast with a topside of beef and sip sherry at the kitchen table.
I reached into my memories and remembered when days were simple,
waters were sweet, and the sun sank into my cheeks with no regret.
No-one knew about global warming or ice caps melting then, the TV was black and white, and scratchy records played melodic tunes on the turntable.
The earth was still a wholesome place to live or so I thought as a naïve child.

I played barefoot in the garden, doing ballet on the front lawn
as my brother took snaps.
I watched tiny buds push their way up through the cracked ground
in celebration of a summer downpour.
I’ve reimagined my life that way again, a gaggle of hens
and a flock of ducks clucking away,
scratching the earth for tasty morsels,
pitching their story to me in the late afternoon,
finding a perch before the sun went down, my own little piece of paradise.

I’m ever hopeful of returning to the simple construct of an uncomplicated life, filled with home-grown vegetables, nourishment for the soul, both mental and physical-to a time when we exchanged pleasantries, perhaps even a little gossip with the neighbors and sometimes a cup of sugar or a few eggs.

Posted in Beauty

Look into the middle distance…

“Silence is a source of Great Strength.”
― Lao Tzu

Sit with me a while
and gaze out at the hills,
watch life go by,
get caught up in the thrill
of doing very little,
while dreaming
of other worlds…
drink in the ambience
until hard lines
gently blur…
forgetting all our troubles
we’ll sink
into our bliss,
abiding in the silence,
where fear cannot exist…

and in the middle distance
we’ll find,
that grace moves unconfined…

Posted in Gratitude

Snapshots…

“The sunflower is mine, in a way.”
― Vincent van Gogh

Whenever I see sunflowers I think of Vincent van Gogh and how they must have elevated his mood!

Snapshots
of carefree days,
sunflowers grow
in bright arrays,
illuminating
overcast moods,
contemplative interludes…

happiness that can be bought,
painting over
gloomy thoughts
in yellows,
ochres,
and sage greens,
gracious blossoms
have intervened…

Posted in Gratitude

Healing shades…

“Learn what is to be taken seriously and laugh at the rest.”
― Herman Hesse

On evenings like this
in scattered blues,
I’m gratefully drenched
in amber hues,
and feelings call out
for tender blessings
to release me from my
dark obsessions..

My feet had stumbled
on rocky grounds
and confessions broke
in mumbled sounds
that heaved
beneath
melancholy sighs,
brooding shadows
that soliloquize..

and laughter moved again
across the skies,
in quiet moments I was being baptized!

now I’m lingering,
in its healing shades,
growing back
as twilight fades
into colors seen
in fluent contrast,
inclement moods
that have come to pass…,

Posted in a remembrance

Love never dies…

We have a popular car-boot sale here every month where you can sell junk,
it’s like a yard sale and a whole lot of us get together,
and people come and buy our pre-loved stuff.

I have been clearing out
and it is more than just dust and papers,
it’s my heart.
I find photos of Steve
and his twelve-step books,
a valentine card he gave me,
his writings,
and the Egyptian cotton sheets he slept on,
it’s excruciating!
Some things I still hold onto for dear life,
his cricket bat
and his last box of cigarettes.

I know it seems strange
but those were the things he touched
they connect me to him
they are his beloved things,
earthly possessions
that brought him happiness!

raw hurts like crazy
raw breaks me
I clean out these closets of my sorrow
again and again
but they still find me
in the dust
in the tears
disguised as hay-fever
trickling down my face.

they can’t wash me out

I look through old photographs
and fragments of him
and I am destroyed,
I don’t know if I will survive,
but I hear his voice
through the piles of papers
his favorite books,
study notes,
poems he wrote,
through the terrible suffering he endured
and he always forgave
and he still forgives…

and he tells me to do the same!

he lives on in my everyday dreams,
he is the voice in my head reminding me
that everything will be okay,
he’s my teacher,
a guardian of my secrets
freed now from his Earthly pain…

the car boot sale isn’t big enough
to hold my baggage,
to sell it to the next poor unassuming soul.
I am a hoarder of memories
selling them doesn’t feel like a betrayal,
it’s more like the gradual letting go of indescribable pain,
a catharsis,
or maybe it’s just to forget….

these are the things I must do to survive
I will hold this connection in my heart forever
and we will meet again, face to face,
it’s the sacred vow we made together once
long before my memories began…

Posted in Surrender

Escape…

“It is important to expect nothing, to take every experience, including the negative ones, as merely steps on the path, and to proceed.”
― Ram Dass

It was an existential crisis,
a sign of the times,
like a reed in the wind
I was blown every which way,
unable to take hold of earth’s loveliness,
like I usually do!

I wanted to find
that elusive escape button
so that I could pretend
that there is nothing  
wrong with the world
or with me.
I was questioning everything,
and for an instant
believing nothing!

You know that feeling,
when you wonder if anything
is actually real
or is being alive just a figment
of your imagination?

Like being outside of your body and seeing an unfamiliar person!

It wasn’t in the pages of a book
or a movie
that I found
the remedy
that brought the magic back.

the mind has its own will
and being stubborn by nature
it goes on a loop, a never-ending cycle
without my permission
pulling me under
until I can no-longer breathe!

It was a glimpse,
a word,
maybe a phrase,
an ah-ha moment,
when I realized I was writing my own story again
before it even happened,
but without a happy ending.
A futuristic novel based on bad evidence
mixed with lashings of self-doubt,
an incoherent babble,
with an apocalyptic ending
where everything falls
entirely apart!

Maybe it was an angelic message
or an intervention of some kind,
an… “alright already, enough!”

I tend to do that,
I tend to make up stories,
some true, but mostly false,
telling myself I’m ugly or useless.

I don’t know where they come from,
they occupy an old groove
in an over-played
worn-out recording?

Not my original earth-song,
spoken to me by Jah,
sung to me by the angels
made in the sacred light of stars
written by the Time Lords
given to me to carry through eternity…

It’s quite overwhelming not to believe in oneself,
it’s like being stuck in quicksand,
and all around there’s a quagmire
of doubt sucking me down,
into a horrible state of powerlessness!

I’m sitting it out now
letting the last fragments of doubt dissipate
the madness runs through my blood
and bleeds out…
I’m watching the rush of waters
as I wait for the moon to pull the tides out…

I promise I’ll try not rage against the storm
even when I see it coming from a distance…

instead I’ll open my eyes
and my heart
and let the light filter in
and I’ll keep on keeping on…

I’ll see those steps before me,
I will admit I’m powerless,
I’ll believe that my Higher Power can restore me to sanity,
I’ll turn over my will to the God of my understanding,

And I’ll surrender….