Deep darkness, despair.
How could you know, you’re not there?
Empty mind I crave,
But constant chatter takes me to the grave.

Fleeing, running; working, studying, drugs, and stuff,
Distractions from revelation; I am enough.
Progress is prized; the final nail,
We need true clarity; the holy grail.

Opening out and up to the mystery unknown,
Here, flourishing can become our own.
Insights of the true us,
Found when there’s nothing, no sound, no ***...

Embracing loneliness can be the pearl sought,
Moving away from things ought,
Turning to the unknown,
Is where true dreams are sewn.

It is lighter outside now,
Rather than the tar-dark
Of the night.
Cars are streaming past;
Their swoosh is like white-noise,
In the early morn.

Things are relatively static
Right now,
Until then busy-ness of the day
Commanders,
Then colour-blinds
All the senses.

Is writing poetry like my fidget toy?
A warm bath or a workout,
Still-ing, stalling and styling
My next proposition.

I stand.







In the middle of my lounge room.
Not wanting to sit,
In case I crease
My cream suit
I just so tirelessly
Ironed.

The birds tell a story,
Of what we humans do.
Their chirps and their tweets,
Are confirmation of who and what we knew.

Though we may not see
It, their eyes scan the skies.
And other varieties capture
our uncommunicated idiosyncracies.

The birds in the sky,
Test the temperature of our times.
They hold our secrets,
And much more importantly, our lies.

And so shall I.

Whispers deep within, cry out “hear me, here in,”
I desire to be heard,
I desire to be seen,
I desire to be acknowledged, as something more than what could have been.

You’ve tried to ignore it,
You’ve tried to do what’s right,
What’s sensible, what’s to be applauded,
Rather than what your heart yearns: to be revelled in delight!

Pure indulgence,
Disdainful scorn,
Narcissisms decadence,
All that should be off-sworn.

But denial has only left me stuck,
I have lived a cognitive dissonance existence,
A state of **** and muck.
I wish for more, I want to rise above the resistance, insistence and self-persistence…

I wish to be MORE curious,
I wish to be larger,
I wish to be more spontaneous,
And live a life full, but not “full” of what ifs, that’s what I rather.

So here I am,
Now, what do I do?!
.
.
.
.
Take the next step…

into the dream,

For there, I hope,  will be the next clue!

and that's what I just
don't get
what makes a poem move?
make someone wet?

I try to be deep,
To be funny,
I try to be whimsical
And visceral so that you can taste honey.

Sometimes I rise,
Many more times, I collapse.
There are pages upon pages I despise,
bored with them, perhaps?


but...

Is it the outcome,
or is it the process?
Does that make poetry?

Help me, please…

Compelled to make sense?!

Mud cakes, sand castles, dress ups and... Make-believe;
Child-like curiosity, awe, wonder and...
Other-world conceive.
Silence, in a busy grownups world gives opportunity for playfulness you can retrieve,
Embrace these moments, seek them out, faith like a mustard seed, oak trees sprout.

I open my curtains to the world outside.
Leaves trembling in the frigid air.
As they drop, to the earth, by-and-by,
Narnia’s Ice Queen’s power does declare:
Time for hidden places where I can etch new traces.

I remind myself: everything has its time and place
Even loss to make way for more.
Opening my wardrobe, warm winter jackets I embrace,
Grateful for their voluminous puffs protecting my core.
A new season evokes new faces.

Who will I become
In the ticking time,
Leaving behind all that is unwelcome;
My limiting beliefs and the voice of compunction,
So I can reset homeostasis.

As the days fold 
Into chill-filled air,
The watermelon dayz
They seem long gone.
Even with the degrees
Still in the moderate thirties,
I long for those hot, stuffy days
Where we twirled our towels
On our heads and smiled, seed-filled,
And none could distinguish where
Sweet and drippy watermelon grins
Started, and the sweat long ended.

Lest we forget
Those who served us so,
Now, with heavenly angels,
Alive now, they teach us what we sow,
Shall remain forevermore or wasteless fodder.

We shall not forget them so,
Sacrifice, selflessness, valour undertow,
Remembrance of our heroes,
Provokes us to live now, lives of valour; value.

Last intensive, last counselling lecture, last semester, last chaplaincy subject…
Last—
This won’t last, soon it will be in the past, right now I can’t wait for it to fly fast,
But I’m sure, sometime, in the not to near future,
I will look back with forlorn, how could it go so fast?
The future looms,
I need to zoom out, hold the prospects lightly, noticing how they feel…
I feel!
Exciting, overwhelming, the usual anxiety-producing sensations.
Could there be another way to feel about the future?
Could there be faith in the unfathomable, not too distant future?
Could the unknown become my friend, inviting me to see new possibilities?
Welcoming risks for pure bliss?
From this vantage point, it has flown,
But I know there have been times when it just felt slow, and my spirit groaned.
So, can I sit here, in the now, embrace the future full of confidence?
I am here now!
Four years ago the challenge loomed,
Felt like carrying bricks up Mount Everest: impossible.
But here I am. I am here.
Celebrate, clap and cheer
the impossibility is thus so near.
It whispers: come closer, lean in, don’t be afraid, peer…

words rattle
around in my
head
but they sing
in my
soul.

Lovely beings, made in love to love;
Superfluous act? Heavenly fact.

Hush, it's raining.
Heaven's cleaning the earth
with its gentle brush,
anew.

It is finished!

Now, at the end, over the vista of anxiousness, I can sense relief!

I can sense more peace and that everything will fall into place.

I may still experience bouts of grief,
But they won’t consume my face.

As I focus on yonder, I can sense this time was yet brief,
And as I hold things more lightly, I can revel in the vast wonder of space and My Maker’s trace.

Movements of Easter

Movement betrays intent
or reveals hearts’ content?
Resisting movement also reveals
how one’s mind heals.
The Spirit’s whisper
Illuminates Go(O)d’s lament
And more significantly, His magnificent intent.

Ordinary moments: sitting on the couch, reading, watching TV,
But behold the backdrop, turquoise waves: the vast sea,
And family, all ages, different generations; pure pleasure.
Moments make up the album of life: captured in photography,
Gratitude to the One who connects all these squashes idol worship, the heart blooms with glee,
Yes, tensions tighten, pain parts, and obstacles obscure; but in the end let that not be the yardstick of measure.

Breathe

Just breathe.
Wait.
Don't act or react or double back.
Just breathe.

Living in this world of the fast and furious,
To wait seems to be too late
Because you're already behind 
Wait.

It's counter-culture
It's not the fight or flight.
It's so simple, it's powerful. 
It's so small, yet so big.

With messages like 'Just Do It',
The world just runs faster 
Because we fear missing out
But in the end, we still lose, ourselves

To what others want,
To what others need.
So we fit in,
So we just, please.

Rather than stop
And risk, for life.
And wait and be
At our Lord's mercy.

Just breathe,
Wait.
His timing is perfect,
Just breathe.

Amen

Known

Slow down, everything’s moving too fast:
On a beat that’s pushing forward, releasing the past.
But here is where I am;
The cool morning air gently caresses my skin; sirens sound far off: an emergency of sorts, lives in danger, rescued: comforting.
Yes, there are lists, present problems praying to solve,
But this is a 'lent' moment, and I won’t let that get old. I smile; these are the ones foretold.

Little Drummer Boy

The drummer
We see today,
Is still the 'Little Drummer Boy'
From yesterday.
His dreams
You gave,
Still, bounce along 
The beats to the eternal song,
Breathe new life 
In the air today,
So he may fulfil 
His destiny.

Resurgam

Prophecy spoke full healing,
I believed it to be in this world;
But alas, I conclude now, with deeper understanding,
It shouldn't be so, but done in the new world
What lies within, surpassing time: everlasting.

Change me like a Rubik’s Cube

Can we taste glory, not shame?

Faith is a full-sensory experience;
Enliven our senses today that we may claim Your glory.

We often live deep in our thoughts,
Surrounded by the shame
Of this world.
Tasting the fruit of evil,
But You are calling me to life.

Love me; shower me with Your sunshine,
Change me like a Rubik’s Cube,
And free me
From the entanglements
Of my shame.

May I never be the same!

Start Small

Betrayal with empty words and no action, except to line their pockets with the fat from profits.
Profits from products that have served to distract us from what’s important:
Relationships. Relationships with our land, relationships with others and relationships with ourselves.
Meaningful action is what we need. It’s our only hope.
Action stems from hearts connected to the one that gives life.
Change is constant. Climate change is chaotic and killing us slowly,
But part of our cosmic life.
We need to change within and live change out.
No more empty words, empty thoughts, empty hearts!
Just act now in meaningful ways that bring life!
Just start small, but with love.
Just don’t continue to sit on hands that are meant to serve, with love.
Just start; it will suffice.

Comforting presence, has been claimed of me,
Heaven’s dew: this gift of affirmation, unsolicited, freely given: gratefully received
Still much to grow, still hopes to claim, truths accepted more deeply,
But in each moment, there is growth! More room to love the skin I liveth in.

Deep breaths come easier,
Still anxiety trembles, but
There is much more room; thus I am freer.
Stopping and claiming this moment, I must.

Waiting in transition, never fully arrived,
But always changing.
Noticing has become my favourite pastime derived,
Out of angst, comes more space for new arranging.

Before I was born

What was I thinking?
No, stop! What-was-I-really-thinking?
Perfection? There is no such thing here, this side of heaven,
Yet, I’ve spent my entire life trying to be,
More, hating who I was,
Striving to be more?
Was it from the trauma of my first surgery
To my brain at 11 months young, that then suffered, again and again, three times more?
Was it the generational trauma carried in my DNA? Unseen, unheard but screaming: you’re not enough!
Stop trying, give up!
Was it others taunting and teasing, yet in reality testing,
Testing what I would do with their jealous tirade?
What a waste.
That’s not how I want to live anymore.
I want to rethink, no, re-imagine a new reality, and step right into my innate creativity.
Breathed within me before I was born.
By YOU...

Mustard Seed

Mud cakes, sand castles, dress ups and... Make-believe;
Child-like curiosity, awe, wonder and...
Other-world conceive.
Silence, in a busy grownup world, gives opportunity for playfulness you can retrieve,
Embrace these moments, seek them out, faith like a mustard seed, oak trees sprout.

Broken Dreams

I tried to be clever,
Carrying too much in my hands.
Inevitably, the glass did sever,
Shattering on the floor, lands.

Can I draw parallels,
With my broken dreams?
God’s too, when He breathed life into dust particles
But we, His people, became broken vessels
Living off dry, earthly streams.

In this season, God’s promises
Seem improbable.
Broken vessels are the masses,
Spirit-God, do the impossible…

Mend my distorted dreams today;
Bringing peace where there seems no stay.

Cold isolation,
Hibernation, and intense fascination,
With self. I needed to do this to reclaim the lost, broken-hearted, and wounded parts of me,
Lonely seasons bring out despair: depression, desperation.

But then things crack and light streams in,
Warmth and life overpowers darkness, enveloping,
With love, grace, a heavenly face that wipes away every tear and love wounds that trace
The maker of our seasons, the one who writes new story endings.

Liberation is a fire that burns deep within, new rumblings, in the heat of new adventures,
New maturity emerges, new insights replace old that are purged,
There is freedom here, new dreams spark, courage is abounding in my inner nature,
New possibilities are seen, tasted, and felt,
Small steps evolve into giant leaps into the future.

To stabilise all this growth, you have to take stock,
Step out of the spotlight, and tend to the flock.
It’s time to reflect, marvel, and enjoy, all the moments in life: good and bad,
And embrace the confidence of standing on firm rock.

From this place, I step into my reward,
Rejoicing that all things are made new, on his accord,
New wisdom is found: pockets with pearls, lavish plunder, so different from the darkness that once hung,
But now I fight my battles with a double-edged sword.

Time tells tales: of where we find our fortune,
Seven years of recovering, seven years of dependence, seven years of healing, seven years of growing freedom.
After seven times seven minus seven days on life support,
lying in a coma, wondering when I would wake up, if ever.
These years were spent learning: from unknowing, awkward, and uncertain to knowing, revelation, and authenticity.
I saw my underbelly, I wrestled with my inner foes,
I reconciled with my complexity,
And was held by the One who truly knows,
The future, the road that’s still ahead, and
The enlargement, the promises fulfilled.
The love and acceptance, the rejoicing.
I step out into the unknown more bolder now,
Holding the hand of the One who is more known.
Time is ahead of me, I don’t need to speed it up, but rather I desperately want to slow it down: and
Savour the moments, minutes, and the memories,
Of life here: now that’s a fortunate tale!

Can grace be birthed?

I live in the brokenness,
I live in the mystery.
I live in imperfection,
I am human: that’s me.

So, why did I continue to wear
The yoke of slavery?
Continue again and again to tear,
Myself down when You tried to love me?

Only with humility,
Can I accept Your love,
Only with Your sovereignty,
Can grace be birthed; free your dove!

...

It is soundless.
Is this how it was
Before You spoke?

Mystery

Observation is key,
To unlock the mystery.

Exquisite Love

Beloved...

Here I am...
... I am listening.

See me...
Oh free me from my earthly tethers.

Trust me...
Lift me  to ride the clouds with You,
Above the storms.

Wild Animal Within

I want to befriend
The wild animal within
To sit with and know,
To encourage and mend.

To tame its twitches,
To friend its foes.
To flame its courage
And pull up its britches.

To walk the way
Of the narrow path,
To head North even with Rath
And help it trust You and all You say.

Hooray

I'll meet You here today
so that our hearts will get to play.
and our smiles will go back from yesterday,
Oh, yesterday.
Our souls will stretch out far and lay
peacefully quiet in Your welcoming hay.
I'll stay forever, and I'll pray
for others to join us every day.
It'll be my pleasure, I'll say; hooray!

True Life

I was dead, even when alive.
I lived, but lived for others,
Surrendering my soul,
I must have existed, but did I truly survive?

Denial? Busyness? Constant comparisons?
Are all good contenders,
(Do-goodness and perfection add)
In the throes of destruction.
But now I heal, trusting in God there are no human barriers.

However, this truth, 
The hustle continues,
Life should be sweet?!
But instead, we struggle by struth!

Mindfulness may be the key,
Cocktails of alcohol and drugs?
Or constant distractions and selfies?
But Jesus trumps all, seek him, you'll see!

He is the life and resurrection,
He is our true peace,
Our hope and life,
And should always be our concentration.

Thank YOU, that I am not perfect!

I take off this heavy yoke,
This burden that cripples my spirit and robs my joy.
What is it like to live a different life?
To believe something different from what I've spoke. 

To try new things and become more of YOUR joy.
Thank YOU that I'm not perfect!

Thank YOU that I can make mistakes,
And can try again.
There are many possibilities ahead!
I can zoom ahead and I can apply the breaks,
I can stumble and re-wire my brain.

Thank YOU that I'm not perfect! 
So here's to another attempt,
So here's to continuing on the journey...
No matter what…willingly and NOT circumspect!

Weary but not wasted

Drawing on power from He who rides upon the clouds,
To face the battles this day that mount. 
Reignite in me an unquenchable fire. 
That stirs my spirit from the One that inspires.

Ablaze

Burn all my impurities;
May they sing:
“This girl is on fire!”

Return to connection

Turn again to your mother’s *****
And risk vulnerability;
Courageous kindness in a world of disconnection.

Wild & Desperate

Most of life is spent curled;
Caught in the wild and desperate places,
Straddling between two worlds;
Satisfied and striving, for more space,
The here-and-now and the not-yet-inspired.
Being enough and constantly unlaced.

I pick up
My tambourine again
Drumming, I usurp
The inky black depression while reminiscing.
Let praise erupt and interrupt
The drone of zombie life.

Can I go one day without doubting?!
One day without posting?
One day without coffee?
One day...
BUT
I will not go one day without seeking,
One day without praising,
One day without
YOU

Restraining

There's something
paradoxical
about restraining,
saying no,
when everything in you
wants to say yes,
everything in you wants
to go get,
everything in you wants
to consume
And then you pause and
wait
And it passes.
Is that the power of restraint?

Power of Remembering

A brisk pace

Walking to work,
I was struck, with the memory:
the time when I could not walk...
After a stroke, during brain surgery, and a 40-day coma…
My step indeed picked up to a brisk pace,
and a smile came upon my face.


Thankful.

Loved

I am…..




                                                     …LOVED.

He hears

Whenever I am lonely,
I cry out to  you.

Feast of praise

Hunt me, keep me!
Fleece my nervousness.
Cease my incessant adversaries,
That I might feast on the praise for
YOU.

A coming storm

We sense it first in unspoken
atmosphere; the insects hear it's
silent roar.
Then it breaks; the lightning
Followed by gusty wind, dust soars.
Hell loosened by our desires woken?
Or God just reminding us of who's in control?

Sabbath Rest

An oasis in the wilderness.