I have a new idea,
It's called...
"D O  A N Y T H I N G"
The concept is simple.
Any task is worthy.
Just do it.
Then do something else.
I will start it now....

****.
I'm locked in again
Not paralysed but stuck.
Not sure what to do.
Each task appears barbed
Like it will pierce my heart.
I could make a piece of jewellery
Write my story
Make an animation
Or tidy up?
Any would do...
But instead I sit here
Not sure how to proceed.
It's like the other things that I woudn't do
Stop me doing any of the other things that I could do.
D-E-C-I-D-E from the latin
"Decidere"
To cut off!
To seperate!

Okay, jewellery it is,
I will check the van...

Beings of light how shall I make this day?
Oblivion calls me
But i do not wish for it.
Can you free me from its grasp?
What ways shall I find that will spare me from it?
What can I do to sway its force?
Can you give me a sign?
Or a means?
That I might stay whole this day...

The westerly gale blows
Deep into my soul.
Lifting the slates
And rubbing the trees
Against the walls of my mind.
A seagull flies by
Against the undulating horizon,
Indelicately buffeted by the wind.
Every thing is in balance

I dance with her,
She moves through me,
Merging in movement, in spirit,
A creative offering.
On this land sacred for the Native Americans,
I recollect old memories, nature secrets

Wandering hither and thither,
Here and there,
What is it you seek?
What do you hope to find
Under the stones you upturn?
Have you found it yet?
Or anything that seems like it?

My question is simple....
What was it that gave you the thought
That you were looking in the right way?
In the right place?
Did you not just follow all the others
Who although not finding, were turning stones too?

I am a ghost
Do you see me?
I hide in the shadows
I fear you.
My essence is cold
The heart of steel.
Fear rages within me
Drawing me in with its astringent pull.
Fear is my home
I abide there
Like a shadow in the cupboard beneath the stairs
Long lost.
What hope is there
In dispair?
In the cold dead of night I wander
Feeling the kinship of the dark.
Slipping past trees and alleys I taste fragments of life,
A wrapper that once contained chocolate...
Or something sweet
They draw me to them and I inhale that which once was.
What is left for me
But the night?