The time taken was not what I dreamed
of, craggy paths, dead ends, or so it seemed.
But now, with back a turn, I see a glimmer,
of the bigger picture, that calls me nearer.
With eyes wide open, listening ears;
a heart full and my spirit clear,
peace and acceptance: my purified pearl.

Pen on paper is like breath in my lungs.
It is my write to live;
Describing, birthing, embracing.
Permission to give.

But the pen used ineptly,
Causes death.
Like throwing my pearls to swine,
Snuffs breath.

Little girl, big brimmed hat,
alone, with suitcases,
traveling to boarding school she sat.
Wanting to be embraced by loving arms,
reassuring tones, peaceful pungent breaths, she calms,
but, the war loomed outside,
and onwards she tried.
The constant Chameleon: hairdresser, interiors, reporter and healer,
now, the season of inner healing to transform into a counsellor.
But, it’s the true counsel that she heeds,
to transform from the wounds that bleed.
May she hear from You, the One who truly heals.
May You lovingly embrace and hold all she feels.
May the little girl grow up into the woman You imagined,
And may she bloom into a lush garden with seeds You've planted.

See the world distinctly?
Pearls?
A kaleidoscope of memories?
Or lucidly look differently?
A beggar, or free from the constraints of Western reality?
New eyes take in all perspectives: perceptions,
Compelling new experiences: horizons.
Releasing shame; distorted distractions.
Embracing imperfections, peccadillos,
Layers of realities,
Depths, and
Rationalities.
Diversely.
Maturely.

My superpower;
may not be the strongest,
but it’s advantageous.

Creates a path through;
the wilderness that life brings,
pain, joy and between.

My superpower,
loudest in silence;
where healing is permeating.

There’s much more going on in my life,
Than just in this moment.
There’s a bigger story at large,
The story involves love and atonement.

Not just a job, a husband or health restoration,
But eternity.
Lift your eyes,
Keep them fixed above and not on modernity.

Go deeper still,
Get in under your skin,
Go to the heart,
And let true life begin.

The mind is amazing,
But it can often get us fixed.
On things of this world,
So lift your eyes higher to the mystery betwixt.

sometimes,
there are those days
when things just flow.
You can either,
run indoors,
or get out your gumboots,
and jump in the puddles.

sometimes,
the days are dry.
your lips are parched,
and creativity eludes you.
You can despair,
turn up the volume of self-loathing,
or embrace the feels,
for some other experience.

sometimes,
there are days when you're juggling,
the myriad of experiences,
and it clicks...
they're all moments,
to be savoured.

Words come and go,
So quickly,
I can’t catch them all!
They dance across my mind,
And then, when I want to recall them,
****, they’re gone!

Connectivity drives us, compels us forward,
Technology, used unwisely, is the dark king of this age; that proclaims hope in wires connected underground and
Invisible signals shoot through the air, trying to share signs that we care, but
Ultimately, it severs us from reality and each other over there: digital Babylon.
Heads down, thoughts inward,
We don’t see the lost on the street,
We don’t see the lady lying in pain, covered in shame, trying to re-cover herself and start over again,
But, effortlessly, we switch off from that kid searching our eyes that he matters,
When we keep looking at ourselves, our next selfie: selfie addicts!
If we don’t post our newest vain attempt to connect, we turn to other drugs to numb the pain,
That our brain is craving to solve;
The receptivity issue.
So we need to switch off to switch on again to our indelible source of
Connection with real life within and with others out,
Who says spirituality doesn’t matter: it’s not for this day and age,
It divides and fuels us with rage,
But it does!
It is,
And it is to come.
Connection to the forever dimension, the reason for the ascension to
Reconnect us back to the truth again.

Heroism comes in the form of a sweet smile, a helping hand and a kind word.