So – it’s bizarre old weather we’re having here in England and I am noticing the increase in the levels of busyness, frustration, anger, struggle, sorrow and shame everywhere I look to in the world….. there is so little Peace and Love left in the hearts of people, in a collective sense. When met individually we are willing to step up, pitch in etc…. but the struggle the planet faces now is as never before….. I include myself in all of that….so – I long for healing for me, for you and all on this earth. The time is fast approaching and we need to be ready for the slippery slide into transformation.

“Washed By The Rivers Of Experience”

These cracks run deep.
Deep like a river fashioning stone
as it finds its own story in its flowing.
The rocks will never repair as
incessant tumbling and turning
changes its face forever.
So it is in me……
Life has squeezed and pummelled my body
until I hardly see myself in it anymore.
Yet know this – like the riverbed,
my Soul is washed by the rivers of experience,
forever onward and evolving.

FC 29th July 2014

In the Moment

Overload is so easy
when we fail to stop
and listen to the wind
flowing through leaves,
bushes and reeds.
See the bird’s melismatic flight?
Perhaps she is in gossamer
drenched space where nothing
matters more than allowing the breeze
to lift her wing, freely in the moment.

FC 29th July 2014

I took my rythmical heart
to the highest point
above the sweltering town.
There, silent music played
in my delight filled eyes as
visual memory wafted
across the distant Dovey.
If I were a Red Kite
I would fly wild on the wind
instead of weeping tears
for the madness in this chaotic,
man made, collapsing world.

FC 28th July 2014

He was meant to help

I was led to believe it

but he threw his hands in the air,

blusteringly, without hearing me

and said something like:

well there’s no point us going further.

His voice was raised….

I was in shock…..

I thought he was there to support

not destroy….

he refused to listen to my story….

He assumed….

I had to raise my voice too to say:

my health may not allow me to work sixteen hours…..

…..Temporarily broken.

Your lips are moist, shiny, wild…….
cherries need picking.
Luschiousness.

Angels In This Voluptuous Hour

Space of stillness here, my friends.
Pews, bats and flowers humming
in this old, eleventh century church.
“A hundred thousand Angels” sound out
through gentle air and light as
healing comes on gossamer wings
of beings, swaying in the melting moments
of the slow and humid day.
Ours is the breadth and depth of Spirit.
We the sparkling souls upon the earth….
I have breath in this voluptuous hour
as Love just lifts the lightness
of this glorious gift .