Forgiveness;
So much hangs on the weight of those three syllables.
Without it,
Your life can turn upside down,
Seemingly in a moment,
And be irrevocably changed forever.

Feeling betrayed,
The wound festers
And smoulders,
Without even noticing
Hurt and pain magnifies,
Lashing out,
Attacking,
Sticking the knife in,
For seemingly no reason,
Hurting the one who means most to you.
Portcullises lowered,
Drawbridges raised,
Fortresses built,
Till you’re both encamped on different continents,
Shooting arrows at each other,
And yourself,
Till the relationship is well and truly
Dead.

No. Communication,
Openness,
And most of all,
Forgiveness,
is a better route,
Prescient,
Kinder,
Ultimately more rewarding,
For both of you.
The rightful path is not smooth and easy,
Lessons painfully learned,
But a wiser soul be you.

The future dazzles
Shining bright
Like nothing you’ve seen before.
Bring shades
Bring joy
Bring happiness
Bring love
And join us for
Coloured rainbows
Unicorns of love
And delectable delicious delights!

"You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things."

“I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times…
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,
In life after life, in age after age, forever.

Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, its age-old pain,
Its ancient tale of being apart or together.
As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,
Clad in the light of a pole-star piercing the darkness of time:
You become an image of what is remembered forever.

You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount.
At the heart of time, love of one for another.
We have played along side millions of lovers, shared in the same
Shy sweetness of meeting, the same distressful tears of farewell-
Old love but in shapes that renew and renew forever.

Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you
The love of all man’s days both past and forever:
Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life.
The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours –
And the songs of every poet past and forever.”

~Rabindranath Tagore

Where have I come from?
Where am I headed?
What am I doing here?
Does it feed my soul’s desire?
Who am I?
Am I who I want to be?
Am I who I’m destined to be?

Into the woods
Seeking solace and R&R,
Away from civilisation,
And the dreaded mobile phone.
Off grid, switched off and outnumbered by trees,
Explore who I am, what I’m doing, where I’m heading.
At 50
Time to take stock,
Reappraise and reapply,
And fulfil my soul’s path.

How do you do that?
When you don’t know what it is
When you don’t know who you are
When you’ve never truly been you.
Always wanting desperately to fit in,
but never seeming able.
Afraid of being judged,
yet judging too.
Never taking action
for consequential fear.
Drifting through life,
Disassociated,
Disconnected,
Discombobulated,
No surprise.
Disengaged,
Discontented,
Disenchanted.

5 nights in the woods
Just me and my tent.
Walking all day,
Staring in the fire all night.
Sitting in peace and quiet amongst coppice, hornbeam and oak
Seeking answers
With none forthcoming.
Other than taking time out.
And dreaming of
Living the #vanlife
Going where the mood takes me.
No rush, no worries, no cares,
Just me and my camper van
Freedom and
Flexibility.

Travelling on the road,
Meeting kindness of strangers,
Comfy dress down
No airs and graces,
Deep conversations,
Connection,
Move on.
Being the nomadic free spirit,
that’s me.

But is it an escape?
A way to stay disconnected?
A way to not face up to feelings
Of anger and shame?
Or will it be the making of me?
The discovery of me?
The adventurer in me?

Over the horizon
Our dreams await,
Waiting patiently,
Patiently,
For us to listen,
Listen,
Echoing our soul’s desire,
Desire.

I miss
The tenderness
The soft tone
The passing touch
The squeeze of an arm
The gentle caress
The post-****** hug
The explanation of how things are

Now it feels
Remote
Distant
Disconnected
Two foreign ships passing in the night
Noticing the other’s faded glow
But ne’er again the Twain shall meet

How can it not be thus
When you treat him how you do
Flying off the handle at the drop of a hat
Shouting and screaming
Pushing him away
Both on tenterhooks
Treading on eggshells
Waiting for the other to blow

You can never change another
Only yourself
Focus on how you want to be
Take care of yourself
Eat well, Eat little, Eat often
Offer him those little touches you crave so much
Be gentle
Be kind
Both to him, And yourself

I miss
The tenderness
The soft tone
The passing touch
The squeeze of an arm
The gentle caress
The post-****** hug
The explanation of how things are

Now it feels
Remote
Distant
Disconnected
Two ships passing in the night
In the eye of the storm
Noticing each other’s faded glow,
But ne’er again the Twain shall meet

After years of turmoil and deception
Of another’s making,
Finally comes peace of mind.
How glorious
That
stillness
sounds.

Over the horizon
Our dreams await,
Waiting patiently,
Patiently,
For us to listen,
Listen,
Echoing our soul’s desire,
Desire.

Dreams whispering
Between the mists of time,
Crying to be heard,
Screaming to be noticed,
Shouting to be paid attention to,
In order to not only live,
But to thrive,
To dance,
To have,
To be.

Write a poem, he said,
It will do you good, he said.
I know not how, said I,
Where to start, what to say, what about, said I.

Think of something, someone, somewhen, he said,
Sit with pen and expectant paper,
Allow words to unveil themselves
From deep inside you.
So that I did, did I.

My first night
Experienced a storm in the woods, did I,
All magical and mystical.
Standing in the rain,
With a flash of lightening,
a crash high above.
Sensing tension in the air,
Feeling murmur in the earth,
Caught in the moment
Not scared was I.

Moved to tears of joy,
I was entranced,
enthralled.
enrapt’d.

I grabbed my expectant pen and paper
To capture the moment.
Words flowed from nowhere
Summing up
What I saw,
What I heard,
How I felt.
Something wondrous,
Something incredulous.
Something extraordinary.

I was finding my voice,
was I.

I’m tired of fighting,
I’m tired of living my life from the past,
I’m tired of putting myself through such torment and pain and fear and confusion,
Spooking myself at every twist and turn,
And then wondering what the **** happened
When it all turns sour, again.
I’m ready to start taking charge of my life and my destiny
Right here, right now,
I’m ready to step into the now.
But how?

50 years acting defensively,
A shield against the attacks and abuse,
Barbed words, scorn and contempt.
Lashing out inappropriately,
The only path known,
A form of protection
A semblance of normality,
Instead ending up
Disconnected,
Lonely,
Alone.

Now discovering another way to be,
Dragging myself from the enticing
Well-worn familiar slippery path
Of melancholy and self-flagellation,
To flower filled meadows
And babbling brook
And choosing my own way
Through the long sweet grass,
To as yet undreamt
And unimagined,
But long overdue,
Pleasures, delights, and food for the soul.

It ******* ****** me off
When people say something
Mumble something
Whisper something
Speak OneLongWord,
And because of a hearing loss
I don’t quite hear,
And they respond with
“It doesn’t matter”.

It does ******* matter
I just didn’t hear
And need you to repeat it.
I need you to repeat the whole sentence
Not just the first part or the last part
The bit I’ve already heard.
Sometimes I’m just missing a key word that makes the whole sentence fall into place
But without it
Confusion
Misunderstanding
Wrong end of the stick.

Or they mumble under their breath
A hint of exasperation in their voice
Annoyed you’re interrupting their flow.
Don’t you think I’m frustrated and angry too?
Missing subtleties and nuances of what import say you

It’s Discriminatory
Disrespectful
And hearing-ist,
I can’t ******* help
That I’m deaf.

It leads to
Feelings of
Missing out
Losing out
Feeling dismissed
Discarded
Not important
Not valued
- The story of my life.....
Disassociated
Feeling on the periphery
Never quite fitting in
Never quite getting the joke
Laughing along
Pretending
But no ******* idea what’s going on.

When I ask you to repeat something
I mean just that
Patiently
Slowly  
Compassionately
With
Understanding,
And. in. individual. words. not. one

They say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks,
I’m beginning to agree,
Entrenched in my negative thoughts
And destructive patterns of behaviour,
I seem unable to change...