The Way
The prosaic, man made world
leaves me cold and unnurtured.
I turn to the poetic
where there is beauty, flow
and nourishment.
Would that all of life reveal
the poetry and art,
however splendidly dire,
for therein lies
healing and wholeness.
Art work: “Vagina-Vocalis” – Felicity Cook
Creating Between Worlds
I see,
as I am drifiting
slipping and sliding,
in and out of sleepiness….
an international
” Small Stones: writing our way home”
road show……
We gather and go
reeling and peeling our small stones
up and down the lands…..
we bring the word and the world together,
united in poetic justice,
artistic license for the sake
of the spark of creative vision
in each and everyone of us….
I am in Love with the deliciousness
of sleepytime visions which come
when the house in my heart is
providing shelter for me and others
on this journey…….
Come write with me….
come write our way home.
Crystal Night
Crystal night- blue sky tonight. Winds quite still – rain long ceased as moon two thirds full, waxes over Hall Farm. High in the sky she smiles, teasing me homeward in my old, green motor. She seems to drive herself this car of mine, under such cool and luminous incandescence.
This night is for lovers of the deepest passions. Come moon – peel back our fears – the stars are your friends, the sky is full of your wizardry. We dance to your tunes, Hearts naked.
BubblingWordClouds 