All that we are:

      Our love  
  
      Our faith
    
      Our joy:

These are the skin that covers.
Bones and ligaments to join
and organize structure.
Blood that sustains and nourishes life.

All that we are:

      Our hate      

      Our doubt    

      Our grief:

Pores to let protective skin breath.
Marrow to create nourishing stream.
Veins to channel crimson flow.

Negative benign yet indispensable
Without which is lump of flesh

      Love working in hate

      Faith in doubt

      Joy in grief

Willing to bleed    
Willing to feel

Ready and willing
To be human without fear

     Our trust

     Our compassion  

     Our virtue:

Animation in our motionless bodies.
Cross-fertilization in
super-natural selection.
Elements of dark and beautiful metamorphosis.

Denied too often  

Misunderstood

Food of the gods      

All that we are

Essence of ever-changing  universe

We are clouds
individual
and collective by nature
changeless-ever-changing
drifting into our eyes
and across our minds

We cannot live in
photos or paintings
inspiring but hanging
dormant like billboards
and traffic signs

Dark clouds awaken
when angry
fire and fury
torrents of rain
hail damaging

Then Zephyr comes
to appease their anger
    ~god’s of the sky~
peace treaties pending

She often drifts in like
an angel
ahead of a storm front
thunder and lightning
her silhouette
bringing in less
threatening clouds to
comfort us when storms
leave us angry cold and wet

At times even darker
clouds hang ominously
and high winds are surely threatening war
then out the blue
allies flank our enemy
blowing away
the fiery vaporous Thor

We float into wintertime
into its storyline
Drifting in and out of space
and time through seasons
of wind hail rain or shine
(essence of
our connected
and interconnected minds)

Billowing Cumulonimbus
Dark Nimbostratus
Thin Sirius basking in sunshine
Shapeless grey clouds of snow
Cold drizzle reigns

Funnel clouds
cyclone
monsoon
hurricane
typhoon
bursting through
atmospheric membranes

We can be moody
boasting large volumes
but revealing far-less mass

Passively aggressive
boasting less volume
but revealing a lot of mass

We are clouds
changeless-ever-changing
drifting into our eyes
and across our minds.

It is not somewhere over the Rainbow
Beyond Mother's breath or
In the devices of ancient
Or modern hands bereft

We touch it in our pathos
And empathy from
Time to time
Through a shallow fading
Gravel bed
Filtering a bitter water table Perhaps

Whilst the tender leaf of spring
Feels it
In the autumn of unconditional
Acceptance of the inevitable
Morning frost
Cold relentless rains
And colourful leaves
falling to their death
In beauty

So far removed from our bipedal Posturing
And upright positioning at the Computer
Desk knowing there is no mystery here
No wild cry in the night
Only electronic and organic
Bleeps and drones and

Aw! there… I heard it again

A lost chord
A missing link
That the wild
Creatures understand
Of what we sometimes feel nearer in our shared limbic
Brain seldom penetrated through
Our domineering eyes planted Firmly in front
Of the gray dross from an eternal Fire

We spend our given time on
This planet trying to douse when The rest
Of creation knows the need for Its
Purification and leaps willingly Into its
All-consuming heart as we
Live in fear of the unknown
And of fear itself

Keeping us estranged from the Cosmic mysterium which Provokes us to awaken
To the wondrous eternal
Which will
Alter our deluded consciousness
To see what has been seen Through the
Unknown eons to help us take to The fire

We only catch a whiff of in the Twilight
Of our hopes and selfless dreams
So we will rise through the
Dry brown leaves of our once Tender
Green vision of an ever-changing Universe
Which whispers louder and Louder in our darkness
Until we cease our chatter and
Learn to listen to the serene Silence
Of an eternal vibration Heightening
Morphing

Less organic much more
Ethereal
spiritual

Crawling further and further
From the pulse of the earth
As we shed thickened skin which
Once replaced thin soft Unprotected flesh
Needing protection from Extraneous
Sources to cover what should Have been

Eternally naked bare to the Elements
Not limited to a frail carcass Which
Will ultimately be left behind as We
Transform into our individual Eternal temples to
Join in worship with the rest of Creation
To be the living offering
At the foot of the
Eternal voice ineffable
Not waiting to be obeyed
In mass procession but

As individual as one spark Igniting
A plot of trees newly released as Mystery
Revealed ever so slightly in the Wake of
The burial of earthbound mind Steeped in
Temporal ancient tradition Fermented in
Oak casks which were made to Remain
And grow in their ****** state

As we hear distant yet distinct Whispers of
The origin of our human calling Above and beyond
Thoreau's distant drummer’s Near silent tremors of the
Most ancient rhythms Now mostly echoes as we
March to
And follow our own drummer
Leading the way back home

As we at times seem to distinctly
Hear original rhythm's calling
As we try so earnestly to
Respond like a dying sea
Longing to once again sway
To the beckoning moon

Often keeping in step
With our
Own inner drummer who
Is always trying to keep
Time by asking

"Are we prepared to give
In to what we will
Inevitably meet in the end?"

my friend came by the other day
as a leaf in the wind he has blown
from street to street
            town to town.

a wanderer he may be
but not at heart--
he longs to be attached
to a tree
                               any tree.

in spring and summer the leaves
     are green and
                              attached.

summer slowly dries them out as the tree
                    prepares for winter.

my friend the dry brown leaf
blows in his perpetual autumn.

we all grow in our own time
and season:

winter dormancy

         spring regeneration

                   summer fulfillment

                             fall  preparing for the
                                                  
          ­  inevitable
season of death.

these seasons of the soul
are the very essence of our existence.

     they teach us

        temper us

        fulfill us.

but there are those who do not see
the purpose of the seasons.
to them winter means only

                             cold

                                       snow

                       desolation.          

spring means only

                    rain

                mud

                            flooding.

summer means

                             beauty to mock
                                the heart in
                                     winter.

i trust in the wisdom of the seasons.
nature teaches us lessons in her cycles.

let the  l
                e
               a
                  f
fall to the ground.
let it rot into cold

    stark

                        winter

           desolation.

spring will come.

bleak gray will become bright colours
                  of spring.

the beauty will fade again but will
reappear in winter's own stark beauty
though it may be cold and gray.
then spring will come.

          spring-will-come !!!

I Saw her name painted upon a stone
Then you told me the legend of Bao Si
Her form as an ageless, ancient beauty
Still alive, breathing in places of love

I have wandered bound within her legend
Spiriting me across stormy jade seas
Walked upon ancient timeless stone pathways
I've taken her to heart as I have you

Enfolded within emerald dreaming
I've envisioned standing on the Great Wall
Then setting ablaze the warning tower
Forsaking all just to have seen her smile

You've told me about the Yunnan mountains
About the precious teas harvested there
The peaceful palmed paradise below them
Gentle winds whisper the name of Bao Si

Beneath the soft shadows of those mountains          
In the early morning amber sunrise
Hands held we will share warm tea and kisses
Love in a coy blossomed beautiful place


© P.M.H 2009 Revised 2/12/19

Throw another log on the fire
the wind's getting up
and the rain's turned to sleet.

Make a dancing ,crackling fire,
to fill up the room
with it's comforting heat.

There may be a power cut
but never you mind,
we'll sit in the light of the fireside glow.

We'll renew our love
without distraction
while outside the sleet turns to snow.

I don't think about it any more
I take out the trash
noting
Sticks caught in the crotch of a tree
The wind does what the wind does
breaks weaker branches down
does not care where
it leaves
them
on its invisible way

Days do what the days do
they don't count themselves
worthy as they go
to release
the afternoon
to evening—
an artless
emptying
to a low spot
where tears tend to pool
if I'd let them down

“You know,
in that low spot
out there...?”
Where it's hard to see
Where its hard to care?

They take heart
out
divide it by energy
for sadness—
I haven't got

Watched the clock go round
wipe out my little plans
with relentless hands

...and I never got dressed today

Sometimes , when you hurt you want to cry.
Sometimes , you just want to lash out at others.
Sometimes, life seems unfair to you always too.
My prayer is that sometimes will disappear too.
Revealing Christ loves in every single situation
That in everything you shall feel his Love also.
That you shall feel lonely or forsaken neither.
For you shall see him in everything that you do.
Thus losing that anger that was building up too.