"The  Spirit Likes to Dress Up...

...to be understood,
to be more than pure light
that burns
where no one is —

so it enters us —"

I tell ya.
Angels
are not as much of a flight risk
as you first may think.
The cherubim however
are flighty
and way more likely to fly off
at the baby's first cry
Like they've got somewhere else to be.
Just try. You'll see.
Not even a bye-bye.

But angels, oh man.
Angels -
I'm a fan.

You can set your Sat Nav
on an Angel.
Dreamtime or lunchtime,
they'll be your guide.
- Sublime.

Me and Mary
were fans.

- Jesus!
Put those nails down.
If your mum catches you with those, she'll go spare.

What good is tall grass?
Your blue eyes cupped in my hands, already

I've asked the saints to dunk me under
in all undue riches
save me from my Only One

Ocean shores love knees to touch
craving almost as much our love long whispers
heads bowed
Our toes realizing chorus and green
and tame it no longer, tumbling
so fully-it shocks us to the tips of our hair splits
not even sandy yet

Offering my jewels to Pharaoh
maybe he could take this price off my head,
my wheels off, nights pink tongue from my window

Over the beds of yellow and orange prayers, still blooming
I step beside the ****** to ask,
but not forgetting,
blue ball caps that scream
over the tops of curly heads

and where am I but always with you at the beach?

Music. You hear it now, don't you?
What's that sound?
Do you hear it, like I hear it?
Over my shoulder, though,
I've got ghosts and granules.

Voices. You hear it now, don't you?
What's that sound?
Do you hear it, like I hear it?
Evolved use of spoken
word, just to squander it.

I look around,
just to see,
loving my pointlessness
has afforded me,
nothing but
lack of company.

Quote me on this, please.
" I Love It "

Getting home.
Getting ******.
No aqualung, here.
Here, the lobes,
evergreen.
I'll die,
but I'm
perfectly fine
in my own eyes,
to be alive,
nowhere beneath,
yet.

I have not always been good.
I have been punished for the smallest mistake
and shown more forgiveness than I deserve.
I have been softer and more vulnerable
than I have been in a very long time
and had my heart ripped out because of it.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the purest water trickles
from a Highland stream and into a tap, far away,
and where I am not.
You are right; I am lonely.
It enfolds me like a cloak, billowing in the wind.
Meanwhile the wild geese are beginning to fly south
and I must head for the north.
When we pass each other, in our flight,
I will smile and nod to them on their way.
They have all that they need
and I am still searching.

No.

I am not high.

I just dream out loud!!

A Mother’s Love
Can get me by
On sunny days
On days I want to cry
She soothes my soul
From wrath and tears
I know she’ll be here
Living
Among the years
A rose
Amongst the thorns
So beautiful is she
Since Before I was Born
When my soul gently weeps
Deep within
This corridor
Within these walls
Of night
I see a light beam forth
It is She
Shining Bright!

Mary holds the lifeless body
As tears flow from her eyes
Does she also know that
Soon her son must rise?
Mary holds her baby's hand
So little and so frail
Does she also understand
That they would be pierced by a nail?
Mary holds her son close to her chest
When they find him teaching
Does she feel so blessed that
Even to death He is reaching?
Mary holds her son to wish him a good day
As he works with Joseph at his trade
Mary holds our hand as we walk the way
God says: see the work my hands have made!