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Things let go of us.
Summer sun Is clinging on. As I walked today, Saturday In October. Summer heat. Summer light. Summer weather. Autumn date code. Summer, hanging on In heat Clues of autumn happening slow Colder mornings Darker nights Sky with deeper hues of… Continue reading
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Come, sit…..(an invitation)
As the summer heat Ended with downpours of rain. The grass once yellow Is green …..again… A chair is here my friend Open invitation To be here Without complication. Where nothing matters In this moment. Put your feet up Put… Continue reading
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Remembering Who You Truly Are.
On a bright cool Tuesday afternoon , in 1994, I sat in Leicester Odeon cinema, watching an animated film that had held me since the very first note, chord and voicing. I was 16 and holding in the blubbing tears… Continue reading
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The Path of the Bird.
One day the wrestle you’re in Might be the last time it raises it’s voice. And then trust arrives. And you take a step Out into the wild Following the path of the bird. The free one. The call of… Continue reading
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The Empty Field
I Stood.Feet on the floor. Perilous. Before me. The Empty Field. Brown. Dirty. Barren. The wheat had goneIts whispy movementA memory echo of a beautiful summer. I pined its lossFor weeks. Complaining thereWas nothing to seeAt sunset. Except clouds. Empty. Empty field. I stoodYet. Now. This moment. This evening. Tears… Continue reading
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Storms pass Behind me.
Remembering I can walk. And letStorms passBehind me. Each Step decidedly forward.From wind that beats my backRain tantalising. Do I go back, into the shelter? Or notice. That now. I walkAway. Leave. Left….Behind. StormsAnd go Into the Sun Light BeckonsAttracting me nowShining blueInto… Continue reading
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Paths are made for feeling.
(My words normal. Italics John O Donohue. )Every time you leave homeAnother road takes youInto a world you were never in. Pilgrimage, an oft used word. Traveller on a sacred path. Internal External. Concurrent. New Stranger on other paths awaitNew… Continue reading
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Your Soul is never not Beautiful.
Your Soul is never not beautifulExcept in the carcass thoughts of a fractured mindThat cant bear to be seenFrom the outside, or from within.For what it is. Your soul is never not beautifulFor she dances in puddles in red welly… Continue reading
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Arrival…(How do you know)
How do you know……. You’ve Arrived. Trains pull in to stations predicted by one arrivals board. 20 departures ones. Arrival almost incidental. People get off, but people leaving more important. Going somewhere else. Need to know where they are going.… Continue reading
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Beauty is.
Dear Flower, I might describe you with a label I once was taught, or proudly exclaim you with accuracy, from my limited knowledge of florals. I might give you fame, by taking your photo. Showing you off to a world… Continue reading
Soul Writer
The Universe conspires to help the dreamer
Paulo Coelho
Where the wild words go.
