STORM
A line of gibbous deckchairs
Emptied by a storm,
Flappering accompaniment,
While white gulls
Squawk and swarm.
BREATH OF HEAVEN
How gently we are born upon the wind of change,
That mighty storm
Reaching us as barely a whisper,
How softly we are carried
From moment to moment
With scarcely a hair to rearrange.
That mighty storm
Reaching us as barely a whisper,
How softly we are carried
From moment to moment
With scarcely a hair to rearrange.
AT LAST
Only since man, has there been a better plan,
As we pushed through darkness, towards the sun,
The flowering of that timeless seed,
At last, at last, has just begun.
As we pushed through darkness, towards the sun,
The flowering of that timeless seed,
At last, at last, has just begun.
THE DREAMER
We import
The world of open eyes
Into our dreams,
And lend the dreamer
A definition
He does not own.
The world of open eyes
Into our dreams,
And lend the dreamer
A definition
He does not own.
STRIP JOINT
Would you strip away
All that is warm with hope,
Mysterious,
Full of promise,
With the scalpel of your curiosity,
Pare me to skeletal bone,
Enchained forever by your sight,
Your eyes,
Your knowing,
A camera, to steal another soul,
A cage, repealing flight,
A pot, in which to miniaturise,
Is that who you would have me be,
A confirmation of mortality?
WHATNOT
A potter,
While glazing
The outside
Of his pot,
Is amazingly
Glazing
The inside
Of what's not.
While glazing
The outside
Of his pot,
Is amazingly
Glazing
The inside
Of what's not.
HIGH TIME
A tide is rising high within,
Of a vast, reflective sea,
That hides with love,
Yet fast begins
To uncover eternity.
Of a vast, reflective sea,
That hides with love,
Yet fast begins
To uncover eternity.
OLD WINE
I remember knowing
Warmth & desire,
Glowing embers
Of long distant fire,
To share a pillow,
Limbs entwined,
A new flavour
For an ancient wine,
As passion stirs
From banishment,
Wearing
Its ill-fitting coat
Of chastity,
Its wild obsession,
Shunned,
Its myopic vision,
Unwelcome,
Its choicest words
Best left unsaid,
Still unspoken
Inside the head,
Hoisted,
In their own
Eternal wondering,
Perhaps discretion
Is the better friend,
Without beginning,
Or pointless end.
ECLIPSE
Chased
By the shadow of a cloud,
A hair's breadth
From eclipse
By solid darkness,
Liquid gold,
Sweeps across
The vast field
Of time.
Her brush,
Eternity's horizon,
Her medium,
Light,
Framed,
Only
By this moment,
Love's workings
Unfold.
RUN OF THE MILL
Sails turning,
Wheels churning,
The mill complains,
The mill complains,
Unaware
That its real yearning
That its real yearning
Still remains,
To feel the will
To feel the will
Of water and air.
DUCKS & DRAKES
Chosen with care,
A rounded flatness,
Befit to spin,
These stones,
These words.
Set in motion,
Loosed,
To a brief,
Rhythmic flight,
A skip, a skid, a skim,
Bouncing out
From the shore,
Yet all too fast,
Only the footprints linger on,
An arrow-head
Of expanding rings,
Point toward the last,
Marking the place,
The moment of sinking,
As words that play
Upon our thinking,
Can only trip
Across the skin,
Until, all spent,
They drop within,
Beneath the superficial layer,
Heading down,
To bed of prayer.
MIRACLE
As a shell upon the ear
Close pressed will bring the sea,
Within my heart, so faint yet clear,
Is whispering to me
A voice in kind to silence near,
A zephyr stirring constantly,
As soft as only I may hear
Yet recognise with certainty.
Insistent as a drum,
The burden of its message holds
A distant, sacred sum,
Another region of my soul
Is calling me to home,
For it be one, yet not the whole
Of all it may become.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)