Have you ever just seen the normal things?
I mean really see them

Like the intricately woven fingers of a Conifer leaf
The riveting shades of green that changes like the colour of the ocean
The light green spills over the dark, in a wild but beautiful contrast

Like the smokey rust of an autumn orange leaf
Falling ambivalently
Where the wind blows
Like the crisp ruby of a freshly picked raspberry
The deep, angry knots locked in wood
Or the spiralling beanstalk, climbing and reaching

The plume of colour from a flower
Pebbles lapping against a woven patio

Understand.
Perspective.

Take some time to really see something, for the first time.

Have you ever just seen the normal things?
I really see them

Like the intricately woven fingers of a Conifer leaf
The riveting shades of green that changes like the colour of the ocean
The light green spills over the dark, in a wild but beautiful contrast

Like the smokey rust of an autumn orange leaf
Falling ambivalently
Where the wind blows
Like the crisp ruby of a freshly picked raspberry
The deep, angry knots locked in wood
Or the spiralling beanstalk, climbing and reaching

The plume of colour of a flower
Pebbles lapping against a woven patio

Take some time to really see something, for the first time.

I find darkness a wonderfully funny thing
How it is associated with evil

But when I look at the nights sky
I see the warmth of a crisp dawn
I see change and the majesty of another chance
A feeling of protection and resignation
Renewal, even
I feel a sense of vastness and possibilities

I felt the feeling a blanket pulled over me beside the fire on a howling winters night.
The arrival of home

I found the darkness of night frightening
About what could be inside, under its veil
But when you embrace it for itself
What it is
You can see the brightest of stars
And sea of brilliant colours
A sea of feeling


Because of course, the light never truly leaves us even when the stars dwindle
Around the corner
Is the chance

Brown, peeling rubber soles on big feet
Crunch crunch, the gravel and glass goes underfoot
The overcast gloom of the early morning.
Depressed and downhearted buildings lining the streets.
Weeds encircling the gardens like a dragon looming over its prey.
Flowers hanging their heads, gravely.

Smudged faces, dark purple eyes, gaunt complexion, another restless night for these children.
Bruises up and down each leg.
Trodden, broken. “Not good enough” ringing in their ears.
Dreary faces, ripped uniforms.

The school building silhouetted against the grey, emotionless sky.
“Line up in rows, nice and neat”
They would hear this repeated for the rest of their lives.
A zebra crossing worn and battered.

Cigarettes passed from frail, wrinkled, hopeless hands.
Hooked on 4 a day at the age of 13
The wind groaned through the yard.
Somber faces, with wide eyes awaiting an education.

Pale arms and legs bristling in the playground.
Teachers thinking the sun has set on their dreams.
The corporations rubbing their hands, stamping their boots.
Another day at school now, but do they have a future?

The time when clouds sail across the embers of an orange sky, just dying down
The time when trees frame the sky, silhouetted branches reaching and grasping.
Shades of violet and blue spilling over each other like a painted scene.
The time when chimneys, in the gloom, puff their last breath.
A time where night and day converse, lazily and soft spoken.
Whispering to each other and giggling.
The brightest of stars seemingly emerging from the clouds.

A time for wonder and dreams.

Tumbling,  falling, twirling over a desolate landscape
Where flowers once grew, green and merry

The delinquent hope that under, the suffocating snow, flowers can bloom.
Shards of ice building from the rubble.
Daggers of chill

Changing, falling, melting beauty from ugly. At the edge of the glacier, a trapped memory teetering, to fall or fly. The cold whispering.

The sun obscured by the clouds, brooding, grey

A flurry of words, a once rapid river, as frozen as his heart

Caught in a blizzard, hanging in the balance, will it thaw?

The sun beamed at the meadow with blissful happiness
As I rested by bones, bathed in warmth, the aroma of grass seasoned slightly by water droplets found itself comfortably in my nostrils

Seas of time seemed to stretch out before me with welcoming arms
The perfect tranquility, the soft breeze accompanied with the swaying of the flowers like some rhythmic dance.

Green trees and foliage delighted to see me as I strolled by.
Just over the dip a pond could be seen, jubilantly conversing with lazy dragon flies.

Berries springing from every bush like glimmering jewels residing peacefully in a crown of leaves.
The tactile curiosity of an ant navigating the plains of my palm.

The blue sky stretching vastly in front of me yet seemed as though it was a canvas, waiting for my imagination to paint

A place where time stops.