As Alice arrives at the Hospital door
a couple smile and say hello.
The girl who is heavy with child
asks which way they should go.


Alice leans over to reach him
to kiss him for one last goodbye.
A silent tear rolls down her face
as with sadness she begins to cry.


They’d been together a very long time
thinking they had more years to come.
But illness came and frailty ensued
now their life together is done.


After some time by his bed, she left
and on hearing a noise she smiled.  
Coming from a nearby maternity suite
it was the cry of a new born child.


She sees the same couple as before
next morning when collecting his things.
And smiles, as she sees their baby boy
as one life ends, and a new one begins.

Sunrise

Flaming birth of day

Flamingo colours

Boiling sky

And newly minted dawn

To pierce the night

With crimson rain

Of burning stars and heaven flame

It's your first day

Don't worry

You are new to life

I am older

I will hold your hand

And show you the way

You have so many roads to discover

Some we will travel side by side

Others we walk alone

One day you will leave me

Quietly in the shade of a tree

Following your own path

Don't worry

Memories will always lead you

Back to the roads we walked together

Outside is gargling with rain;
A displeasing pitter-patter of cloudburst spittle,
You sunlight absent, serotonin vampire, dooming me into this inferior place while water flows into canals frying golden leaves that pass and pass.

I glare and I glare at the whiteness of this page; my to-be creation and what will I create?
Sunburned arc eyes, shuttered, flickered flashes
I recalled, ‘I am a creature of the pen’,
she said: ‘My pen is the best of me’. We share a name you know?

It was 1988, a blizzard hastened its squally flakes
during my twenty-hour wait.
They groaned, they rumbled against the frail hospice window; mother had always said.
A grating cry creaked that February night;
the blizzard was worried stiff.
shall I write about the night I came to be?

So there I am a sprout germinating in the dark,
Birth towards decay.
A natural occurrence, if you know?
I expected so much more.
there is so much more to say.

But I shut my eyes and I am rushing and I am dashing
towards the end of the horizon.
I drop myself into the pool of dooming sunsets,
Be swallowed into darkness; sweet comfort of the unseen.
And after I howl my yowl,

I let it
hiss the birth
of an unfamiliar
miracle

If you could
Change your birth certificate
Would you?

If you could
Change your death certificate
Would you?

Are these questions certifiable?

Your arms aren’t quite right, your head’s too big
Your legs are turned in awkward ways,
You struggle to take each breath.
We couldn’t love you more,
But I need to know...
Will you forgive
our giving
you this
Life?

When grief knocks sheepishly but persistently
When anger kicks at my ear drums
When fear hugs me closely, a little too tightly
When I talk to those who formed my inner voices
When thoughts crowd out my breathing
When souls weep over their losses
When sleep backs down after it's fight with stress

When delicate petals and sprouts brave the weather valiantly
When big blue eyes smile back up at me
When rains soak and nourish and my bed beckons
When innocent discussions bond hearts
When he holds my hand while half asleep
When the blissful aroma and taste of hot tea fills my senses
When the cleansing ocean spray makes my skin come alive
When soft music puts my tired mind to sleep like a baby

I hate pottering around inside my mind
With no reason or rhyme, like I'm retired-
Poking through cobwebbed corners,
Pulling at age-old tablecloths, considering
A garden party for me and my little lost smile
There in the half-wild,
With the sun like messy oil I'll have to wash
Out of my hair and clothing when I'm done.

I hate playing docile card games alone,
Laying out plans like pictures I'll never colour in-
My doughy brain pokes stimulus off the shelf  
And traps itself in kindergarten daydreams;
I fingerpaint endlessly,
Defining the world through crayon senses,
Crushing, mushing cookies and shaking
Clumsy maraca beats.

If only I could lie down in soft rustic flesh
Snatching handfuls of it to conceal my skin
Finally, finally filling myself in
Buried alive for good
And be expelled, again, into blazing harshness
Choking on the earth that forms my body
Crying, crying for hope and fresh presence
Coming to life for good.