your voice is calling…..

You came tumbling out of the sky,

a star shard, alight with sound.

You came ringing through clouds

spinning like tumbleweed

on to warm earth, sweating soil.

A mind of  vastness  like the universe,

catacombs of wonder

waiting to open to the world.

Shake up your soul,

sound out your longing

on the breeze ….

your voice is calling to be heard..





Howl at the Dark Horse.

Howl at the Dark Horse.

Ashah ashah ashah ashah….wind rattles
my ears,
my face, my life.
Leather, the reins
as I steam through dark night.
Breath seems so tight,
so determined, so hard
that my howling is cutting,
scarring the world.
I ride through the bracken
not afraid of Dark Horse
for she and me shatter
boundaries with force.
This terror is screaming
in sinew and vein
as my body convulses;
invisible pain.
Ashah ashah ashah ashah…..

* dedicating this to all who suffer with invisible illness.*

Squeezing Between the Branches

Have you ever curled yourself up close,                                            twisting and turning your soft bright hair?                                             Or seen the moon’s wild fingers entwined so  fine and silky there?                                                And did you know she worked a form, a loose weave cradle in a bed of beams?                                                    Or maybe even wrestled in the night, with yearning and exotic dreams?

Have you ever stood high in the branches of the greenest mulberry tree,                                                                                                        away up high from eyes that glare, while your swift feet dance as you fly the air                                                 As you hold the mystery that is really yours                                                          for the silent message your eye adores.

I ask you barefoot traveller now – Do you dare, do you care and……..are you truly  there?

Have  you ever held  a fieresome promise to your patient inner child, despite your crashing around on solid ground,  a vagabond of  hearts and forward thinking, shardlike minds?

If you Sqeeze between the branches of your rhythmic heart                               and ask a question that’s in perfect time,                                                             your Love so gentle as the springtime rain                                  will whisper to your wild life….                  the courageous voice …. his song, such Love, again.


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