It might just be as I had thought….
I see the chronic pain has raged in me
so many times where hypervigilance
has been my prison officer.
I had not known nor felt the acuteness
of burning threats those years now passed.
I had not seen the agony of experience
soak into my body….. and hide.
Do you know about this too?
This dancing game? The game where
the perpetrator awaits its prey,
you move and then……..
I know it now…. my body has incubated it.
Every cell in me has an imprint of every action,
every fear and loathesome sound which
banged on my nerves so hard and
for so many jagged years.
The nerves my friend….. this is where it
rises up and says – “No more”…..
The whole system in turmoil screams
and caming down comes slowly on apace.
My wings are my wrapping for safety,
My heart is my organ to fill the echoey chambers
where compassion now grows like balm dripping
from transluscent trees……
Healing is coming.
Shock hit me hard
against the wall of
your green bright room.
My painting funny and wild,
a canvas of my cheeky self….
Nothing but fun and frolics
in my mind, you in a few miserly words
dashed it hard against the text books
of you precious training.
What a gift you gave me!
I woke up…..
and now I get up to speak my
courageous, fire-filled, passionate mind.
No more paying your mortgage, mate.
I have a small, shining stone
in my slightly off-centre pocket.
Like my pocket, it too is off-centre;
it wonders what the approaching
‘Grand Cross’ will bring.
I whisper into my little pocket….
“just wait and see. It may not
be as bad as we fear ~
we’re in it together but please, please
don’t leap out and start shouting
when I’m not looking, my little stone!”
Thanks to Jane Adams for the glorious artwork: http://janeadamsart.wordpress.com/2014/01/07/dive-into-yoga/grand-cross-04-15am-gmt-23-april-2014-london/
Ineffable, unfurling of Spring;
The Frisson of Health
This morning’s chill sits stark upon my feet.
Iced with purple blotches along my naked toes,
air shards embed to the bone and my skin
wants to peel off, like shavings from the
woodcarver’s lusty, voracious knife.
Yet, this IS my amazing life.
We stand here naked,
unprotected from the scrimmages of the world
with our bottoms bare for the beating.
Still, even so……
somewhere along this varigated journey,
precious souls cover our pain of nakedness
with petals from glorious flowers
of wild hedgerows, fields and hills.
These too embed themselves in us…..
as we find the longed for, frisson of Health.
Dedicated to my dear Sister of the Soul, Yaz McCallion
Morning sky of blueness
enhances bright pink cherry blossoms,
beyond the garden fence,
like a purple hazed duet hanging in the air.
Tumnus sits high on sunlit shed roof
watching wet, wintered ground
while delicate feathered creatures
sing their own “Spem in Alium”.
I sit writing in my room of lightness,
I breathe, I watch, I listen.
Creator caeli et terrae.
Ref: “Spem in Alium” ( Hope in any other) – is a 40-part Renaissance motet by Thomas Tallis
Trans. third verse, lines three and four:
Creator of Heaven and Earth”.
Photo: Pink cherry blossom by EasterStockPhotos.com
March comes in like a lamb,
yet the Hare will be segueing in the flutter
of a blue painted eyelash.
His pounding feet drum the ground
here in this sunniest of crisp cold days
as his lover comes over the hill
ears aflopping, eyes alluring….
“Come my love” she says….
“It’s time for Spring”.
Hare Sculpture in the grounds of Chippenham Park, Suffolk. With kind permisson of the Hare.