We see through mists
to where we think Love bides.
Never pausing,
or sometimes even breathing.
The fear this red and luscious longing
will go out there on the wing
and not be one with us,
or attempt the Soul to Soul
deep contact thing…
Nothing comes from forcing
as forcing creates fixing
and from fixing,
not one tear can flow,
not one heart is healed,
not a single life is saved…..
and no one,
not one person
receives our abundant beautiful Heart.
Love ~ Whole ~ Heartedly
Beneath the Silver Birch,
my excited heart flutters
like the tremulous leaves do shiver overhead…..
Surely you must know it’s all because
your crystal eyes soak me
in the Light of your Love? …..
I see you….
in the mist across the field
at dew time, emerging light time….
you with the flickering sunbeam in your hands
which weaves and mends soft threadbare hearts.
I see you are connected to me
eternal, timeless, pulsating Light.
Longing
I long to go where the white geese go,
with wings like magnets, drawn outward
and onward by the wild.
I dream to climb the tallest redwood I can find
and scan for miles ‘cross sprawling lands,
pellucid, translucent- rough and sassy seas.
I yearn to see, under my bare, worn feet,
a constant sense of a glorious, Spring,
like the giggling stream over tawny stones
where Celandines shine and mossy banks shall sing.
I ache to hear the Cuckoo call
from distant coppice in rough, raised field,
where Barn Owls too-wit to their other’s too-woo
as sounds of Debussy’s harmonies yield
such light, in the fullness of the orb, for you.
For my desire, shall forever be,
that you alone shall pass, with me.
And there, between our quickened lips
does raise the breath of passion’s warmth,
these timeless, ticking, holy hands,
where life’s encumbrances melt
and Love now, magnificently stands.
Till then, my dreaming shall so deep and languid be,
of Hope for all and all that Life gives back to me.
Crawling with Lambs
When I was a child, crawling was easy
in and out of the long wheat grasses,
hiding from mother till the tension passes –
with a Jumping Jack as up I’d pop
with grinning face and dishevelled mop.
Yet now it’s the turn of the young white lambs
in the farmer’s field where wheat’s still stands
and little white ears on a bobbing white ball
sticking up high where the skyline falls
on the wheat so green on the hillside trail
with never a sound from the farmers pail.
I bet if he knew these furry white blobs
were flattening his wheat he’d be up on his feet
and off to this hill with his Border called Bess
who’d navigate fun with lambs on the run……
Then perhaps when he left, I’d go down on my knees
and do my bit in the green wheaty leaves
and I’d hide away till time for tea…..
and feel I’d claimed back, a lost part of me.
It came again today
the love I have loved you with
for a decade…….
This impossible dream has dreamt me
as the reality of passing years
unhooked my laces of longing
and tied them in figure of eight knots.
Knots which forever remind me
that through you,
I am changed.
Changed like dunes upon the shore
magically morphing and shapeshifting
for time and all eternity.
Nothing can wash this truth away on the tide.
What the Heart Desires – stream of consciousness.
Am I slave or barren witch
upon the tuffets of grass
out there in some secret, isolated nook?
Am I the crashing waves flinging myself
against the frozen, howling rock?
Do I gleam and glare as the curtain falls
with a crash and the audience flees?
No – I am the bronzed, scorching sun
who devours the stars of the night
with its fingertips whitehot.
For I long to be as they are, suspended weightlessly
longing to be plucked from the midnight blue of night
and tucked neatly and gently into a warm, soft paw palm……
I am the Siren who calls into the
shocking sounds of the turbulent sea
” Come home, come come ….. for I dance at your feet
and run away with your mind of dreams….”
I take my ground and I lengthen and widen into
world of the Creative and Creator…..
THIS is where I long to be.
Sun Setting on the Edge of Time
I sit listening to Bach,
using my watercolour crayons
to create New Year cards.
In the corner of my eye
I see the light changing
to meet the night;
the last night of the year.
In my quiet and gentle space
I begin to let go of the
encumberances of my life
and recognise again and yet again,
where my heart dwells.
My heart lives by the
lakes and pools of life,
in the steeples where bells do chime,
beneath trees where the primrose blooms
and in the pit of my belly
where the stories of my life are told.
So, as the sun sets on the edge of time
this night,
I come forward
and jump into the next year,
fully connected to my heart and longing……..
BubblingWordClouds 