Porch light casts false day on flora
Insects locked in entropic flights
I breath in the cool evening air

The sway, the breeze, the knots
Suspended above the earth
The rhythmic stretching  of the hammock

Once
In an old abandoned house
Leaning on an edgeless prairie
Where the wind played
At the velocities of it’s will
I climbed up into the desiccated dusted attic
And opened a wooden box

Time faded letters
Trinkets that tethered moments
Fountain pen etched words
Written on oceans torn apart
He took care not to nurture her fears
But between every word
A truth could not be ignored
That he was both the hunted
And the hunter
The wind sang mournful
Through the weathered old home


What hopes and dreams
Are woven into days yet lived
Only to be
Tucked away in abandoned boxes
and hearts
And what war does to love
We should never forgive....

Nestling your heart within your heart
For the two are separate
The heart you offer
The heart you reach out with
The heart you give

And the heart that is yours
The heart that breathes aloneness
The heart that lives alone
The heart that needs nothing
But you…

And when the flush
hearts orbit each other
until gravity collapses the barriers
and you the fall
with strands of passion and sinew
writhing twisting pulsing
your desires out of you
….into you
alive in the fire of the flesh
the soul and the corporeal
a unison offering sense of the two
oh…. but for the trespass
of the heart

~We all live through breath and time,
Through movement and mistake, though
Our world is often blind. We try and find
our voice, but the great chasm that is
Silence is infinitely demanding. If only
We realised that time never stills, that it
Waits not for one,

That we are all just beings of nerve and arduous love,
Sometimes we are vulnerable: stripped away and weary-eyed,
Sometimes we are coiled in ash and basalt, as if we are skies
And through us pass comets of smouldering
Inadequacy and vagabond dreams, meandering
discontent and grief unstitched at seams,

And when time loosens its grasp, we fade a little; for
Memory crawls toward a life more simple, it
Drowns itself in a Spirit that hovers continual
Over the death of time, omnipotent and glorious;

For we are all precariously floating on the
Brink of life's unfurling void, constantly inching
Closer to our own shadows, all too absent,
too unaware of our own fragility...~

Shattering the sounds of the silence
Buried deeper than we know
Laid upon the layers
We have laid to rest

Breaking the seal
The voices fill their lungs
And sing
And speak
And scream
Shattering the silence ....