in this way you find separation
paths familiar yet unmarked
wade into tall fragrant grasses
caresses soft as spring butterfly wings
nature’s choir harmonic tuning
humming from your chest
test your equilibrium
one leg raised for motion
hush your paradiddle heart
chin anointing clavicle
closed eyes filter morning’s sacred light
home home crescendo
sustain your hallelu
hold it close inhale inhabit
invest your all
linger with your knowing gaze
you may never feel
this ready
so alive again
We exist but not alone. We create from what we may think we know but all knowledge exists in the collective well from which we draw our small dipper these few drops we may hold fast. Palm as precious stones. We may claim as our own. Briefly.
Hurry your eloquent passion
Time slicing devisor of measures
Breathing’s an act of deliberate intention
Dancers like you touching ground
Leave no trace evidence for eyes
Resting comes soon with practice
A bench to contemplate grace
Warmed by hours in afternoon sunlight
Twilight arrives with patient treasure
Gathered from days of the world
Mother with Child
quiet in this deep wild
She smiles when I come around
Afternoons I bring white rose petals
fallen from my gardens in bloom
Drop my offering slow to soft earth
Then settle awhile
beneath a canopy of peace green
Read one chapter aloud
to anyone gathering here.
You must be shoeless
to feel stepping stones
You must be quiet
to hear songs of ancient bones
You must be ready
to catch a star
when it arrives midday
Breathing
I balance here
Between
In the silence between morning birds’ song
whispered comforts or threats traverse unseen
Communities of canopies
Neighbourhoods of heartwood sheltered deep
for decades or centuries
Human steps tread past or with bravado some ascend
lookout holding steady trunks endure
fragile limbs of women and men
Night gatherings moonlit shadow shapes
sacred swaying to the rhythm of stars
Record keepers
inhaling exhaling all glory all decay all debris
Beyond the continuum of this holy life
our human eyes may glimpse a light amid seas of possibility
Yet misinterpret again and again the message of our role
and what could be
We occupy this fleeting existence so temporarily
what has been and always there will be
beyond you and me beyond all of us in our collective lack
Despite our elevated posturing our experiments our narcissism
our valour even our creativity
After we again have surrendered and ground ourselves back to dust
There will remain the one constant one glory whose truth
always was and ever will guarantee
Survival of the Tree
Why should I want to contain you
Place your beauty within this cage in this frame
For is not arresting all at the essence of Art
Fragrance of imperfect freedom
An unleashing
Flight from confinement
Escape from ordinary
Exploration of sensescapes no corporeal beings roam
Wings
Logic and deduction and evidence and explanation
Too loaded to follow
A bridge deconstructed an outline made of squint
Lace and velvet satin and flowers rivulets of sky in an ocean of dream
Scenes of an unscene
Can I slip into my/your/our centre in secret moments
Touch your raw naked pulse
Feel
What it is to know truth at the intersection
Where imperfect breath and depth of life exchange promises
Without uttering a sound
But a shift
Caught drifting soft past
A presence
Something there
Poem God
Poem Goddess
Poem Spirit
Poem Breath
Rising with wind
Riding upon waves enroute to sky
I sat upon the earth and built this thing for you.
Fortune arrives to those who expect it
Who said that, asks the one still waiting
Bees forfeit sunlit blossoms to suckle a blank wall instead
What made sense yesterday leaves a smudge for us to ponder
A circle is unending like a fortress of safety forever watchful
But through a new jaded pair of eyes a circle is a prison
From which only the secretive and most cunning may manage escape
Tunnelling through ages of rotted ideas and misguided plans
Breathing shallow so as to avoid disease by the effort
Believe in change, the mantra humming in their heaving chests
Through filth and squalor a sliver of light hints at silver
Bees circle upon walls, forfeiting temptation’s blossoms
Allowing either conspicuous gaps or innocuous bee suckling spaces
Readying themselves for the new age where winged things flourish
Where honey is the preferred currency
