Last night I was a wolf
Roaming the far west glen
Where the ocean meets the dune grass
And the pines melt into the sand
I ran with my brothers and sisters
Under the star heralded sky.
I reached a rise in the lit land
And howled a bellow to the rising
Yellowed moon, the cold air
Seared my fur.  And I was at one
With the wild, holly berries glowed
Red like plant fire in the branches
And the wave led silence
Brought me home.

I have not the words
For my lines, they have evaded me.
Sometimes I feel them slip
Under the horizon
Out of my eye line
Alive in the cracks
Like the edge of a mirror.
I imagine them, on the edge,
Their horizon, being lit by
The moon and the sun
Day and night, passes and scythed letters
I cannot remember, sink deep in the
Earth, my words, slip
In this fog.

I hope I can reach them soon,
Lit by the years, and the moon and sun,
My lost words under the horizon.

RB

I watched you today;
I admired your strutting decadence
Unruly, dishevelled bird of jagged honesty
Ruffled, disrespectful feathers that shine
And reflect your begging, squawking call

You and four of your friends,
Dragged down a helpless potato I
Left out for you;
Pinioned it to the ground
With strutted abandon

Oh bird much maligned;
Bird of ungainly beauty
Hobo, derelict, winged, caller
When you murmur the
Shaking stirred skies
With your flocks,

The noise black swirled and reckless
Never fails to make us catch our breath
That such flock - formed beauty could come
From a ragged kingdom call
Makes my own wings;
Take Flight

Blessed by the stars are we
Warmed by the sun
Shone on by the moon
Grounded by the earth
Moved by the sea

Made strong by the mountains
Befriended by the rivers
Fired by the warmth of her dark heart
And lifted by the blue trimmed breeze

Every moment dark and light
Loved and unspoken

She holds us in her silent woven
Song

An ode to the raggedy starling

I watched you today;
I admired your strutting decadence
Unruly, dishevelled bird of jagged honesty
Ruffled, disrespectful feathers that shine
And reflect your begging, squawking call

You and four of your friends,
Dragged down a helpless potato I
Left out for you;
Pinioned it to the ground
With strutted abandon

Oh bird much maligned;
Bird of ungainly beauty
Hobo, derelict, winged, caller
When you murmur the
Shaking stirred skies
With your flocks,

The noise black swirled and reckless
Never fails to make us catch our breath
That such flock - formed beauty could come
From a ragged kingdom call
Makes my own wings;
Take Flight

Just written :-)

These trees are like creatures;
Singing earth held songs of ancient
Untold time
Bracken Moss Fuelled
Stories run down the mossy
Branches and slide into
My humble thoughts
Sitting here amongst such
Quiet shouting knowledge

And I wonder when mere words
Are done with
And the world again speaks
Again with wild language
What these earth bound trees will say of us
To the starred heavens above

Ancient Trackways


My mind travels sometimes
To the ancient trackways across the land;
The furrows that unfurl the past,
And lead to the soft pathed hills
streaked with moss and fern.

I imagine the many feet that have trod
The paths to shrine, stones, and wells
And the deep memories they share;
The streams of wisdom flow on now, in silence
Knowledge runs green against the whispering sky.

The clues are there in the landscape, should you wish to hear
The rushing wisdoms that echo across deep lanes and green trees.

Listen for my whisper in the quiet lanes
And I'll guide you where the ancient footsteps lead
To the sacred places that lie still and quiet in the land