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SpiralDancer May 14
Corona created chaotic choices.
Crumbling and collapsing decaying capitalism.

Birthing conscious awakenings in all corners of the world.
Kindness became the new currency.

The spoon fed fear, once zealously swallowed.
A Grimm bed time story for children grown up
Always thirsting for more,
having known nothing else.

Before the tide turned.
Before the silence.

And the old ways, became the old ways.
And the new ways -
Free will.
Still feeling like dress up clothes
not yet feeling the fit.

But with the courage and curiosity of pioneers,
We learned to feel comfortable in our own power.
We grew into our new skin, as we shed the old.

Conscious awakened.  
Now flying freely.
Free birds flowing on clear currents.

Skies of infinite possibility
Illuminating landscapes of love,
Dancing in footsteps of joy
Draped in New dreams
and hope
On a newly
birthed Earth.

We called that time,
The Beginning.
Written March 23rd.  This great pause for us all is filled with opportunities to shift the collective into a new way of being
May 14 · 223
SpiralDancer May 14
I got wet.

Then I got more wet.

Then I lost my keys.

And my shoes were filled with rain,

chattering teeth, soaked to my thighs

through to my skin

shrivelled up feet, trench foot set in

but then I think about real trench foot
and silently apologise to the poor sods
who died with wet feet

I cried when I peeled off my clothes

I felt sorry for myself

But the little un had made me a hot drink

So I thought myself lucky

I am not native to wet and cold

The sun is needed for us growin' old
When you've been rained on so much it feels like emotional damage!
May 14 · 233
Urban Lady of Shalott
SpiralDancer May 14
Jewelled lights
Inner city
Urban sunsets lookin' pretty
A Tower block rapunzel
hair spun from ghetto gold
15th storeys high
and the stories gettin' old
No knight is waiting
A million dreams are broken
the lift is out of order
Hope seems a foolish notion
Isolation is her captor
the city her disorder


Throwin' caution to the sky gods
She dresses in her armour
Advances down the stair well
Into inner city drama
On the 29 she takes a seat
looks straight ahead
Smile painted on.
The day she greets
At dusk again, in towered gloom
Moon illuminates her room
Stitching up torn, tired seams
of abandoned.
Long lost dreams.
Her heart.  
Already healing
Urban warrior forever
One day she'll leave this jungle.
Maybe. Who knows.
I spent years surviving the cold isolation of London in my early twenties.  Working, keeping afloat. I wrote this recently when I was working there and staying in my friends flat on the 15th floor in North London.  Epic and bleak and isolating.  Seems even more pertinent in lockdown!
May 14 · 143
The Hunt
SpiralDancer May 14
If you go down
in the woods

Dont go alone
Dont go alone
Better stay home today

Dont expect them to play fair
It's criminally legal

If there's a hunter
then there is hunted

If you go down
in the woods

Stay on the path
Stay on the path
It's best to stay home today

You dont stand a chance
run as fast as you can
You wont see
the end of the day

If you go down
in the woods

Cover your ears
look straight ahead
Better stay home today
Living in the countryside is lovely, until you see the hunt...

— The End —