The Cosmic,
the cosmos,
the universe,
the galaxy,
the whole earth,
the world,
within and without,
even beneath,
all of them bear witness
of your coming,
of your existence,
of your purpose,
your destiny is shaped,
your path ordered,
predestinated to rule,
configured to win.
You are not of the earth,
for you are born of God,
alien in the world,
resident in the earth,
the spirit man,
with heaven within.
The firmament,
and all that composes planet earth, water,air,flora,fauna, soil, people,
human creations,
is needed to be in harmonium,
live in harmony, respect, love,
and oneness.
We must connect lovingly to mother earth,
all living creatures,
human and nonhuman,
physical and nonphysical,
intelligent or without intelligence,
containing a soul or not housing a soul.
We must respect the planet earth,
the water, the trees, the air, the animals,
and other humans.
We are all of,
and from,
the same source.
Just for today,
Be at peace.
©20189 Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.

Full Moon with Deep Craters.  
High Tides and Strong Winds.

Too Hot and Bright Light.
Fell Off and Nearly Died.

I took the left path where hydrangeas grew and sleepy primroses under woods, edged shady trees.
The empty stream ran quietly dry
With grass cuttings piling high.
If one peeped, one would find tiny creatures
To cast a sparkle here and there, a delight.
So on tip-toe, with sandels bent
Up high I reached to take
The plastic fairy as she twirled a pirouette
In a theatre made by chance.
Reflected in a silver mirror intwinned with ivy branch
A mottled foal tends his dreams and Chrismas robin chirps.

My brother took the right hand path where the trees grew fruit
Ripe berries from the gooseberry bush bulged their prickles.
Dangling from hawthorn now a cowboy with a hat
Looking for his fellow Indian with the yellow back sack.
Sheep gather in a hollow, dark, protected from the sun
And Mr toad, now lost of paint, has turned a bit glum.

And so we leave our woodland friends and travel up the *****
Winding round the rose bed and goldfish where they float.
Then up we climb, the middle route, to jump the pruned clipped
Hedge.
The lawn divided in two halves, a contemporary taste.

Now we're nearly at that place where if one was to turn
Could see down across the land
To the sea and sand.
Of all the beauties that I've known
Nothing beats this Island home.

Love Mary x




My grandfather’s retirement bungalow was in Totland Isle of Wight.
It was named Innisfail meaning ‘Isle of Ireland’.
Behind, the garden led down to magical and delightful to children who came as visitors. My grandfather would prepare this woodland with some suitable surprises.
The garden and woodland deserved its own name and in retrospect
Is now named ‘Innislandia’ to suggest a separate, mysterious land.
Beyond the real world.
In the poem A Country Lane on page 8 the latched gate is the back gate to my grandparent’s garden and bungalow in Totland as above.

They tell me to be happy
They say they want me to be happy

How can I find happiness in something
that doesn't make me happy?
How can I be happy in a world
full of pain and suffering?

I have to find it myself, right?
What if I don't find it worthy?
What if I successfully commit suicide?

You can't help a dead girl
You can't save a dead girl

All you can do is sit there
wondering what went wrong
wondering how did you miss it all
wondering why couldn't you save me

But i'll be gone by then
There's nothing you could do about it
The pain will always be there
..
Scarring you forever