poetry
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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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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
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What Butterfly Said.
I wonder. I wonder whether butterflies have been told? I wonder whether they know?If the rumour has got through to them after all these years. That they have become metaphoric. To the extreme. Pastiche. Simile. Picture. Meme. Resonance. Symbol. Awakening.… Continue reading
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Arousal of Life
It wasn’t just the dolphins.However wonder lusting we were about them. It wasn’t just the puffins. However much they performed their adorable cuteness. It was the space between. From Dolphins just of the harbourTo the island. There was time. Time… Continue reading
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The Dice.
The Gods throw the dice and how do you respond?When numbers don’t fall your wayHow do you respond When the numbers fall outside the linesOf what you thought.Of what you controlled.Of what you planned. Because. The Gods don’t care. The… Continue reading
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The First Note
A Participative Imagining Pause with me. In the breath. Imagine with me. In the moment. Let’s go somewhere. Lets wonder. Lets travel to the place where the question unanswerable lingers in the soul. feel this with me: Which two things… Continue reading
James Ballantyne 