traumas affect your true north;
it's not until you look back
that you see the dwarf
self you've become and wandered into the slack
of your essence.

I am gonna come clean...
I think I am just a
tinsy-wee bit of a
DRAMA QUEEN!

Seeing things
in hyper-colour
When really it's black and white
and lacking wings

Yep,
I’m a queen
Of drama and melodrama
Take me down, down into the deep.

Where there is no sleep,

But a perpetual stream,

of life...

Rejection

God of all motion
Show me how you're transforming anger
And let me take control

I hear "the birds"
outside calling —
but at zero degrees
I am sorry!
It's like Emily's phrase:
"When [even] shadows hold their breath" --
I will enjoy you from the inside
and warming,

guilt
the terrible torturer
twists you from the inside out
when affected
we're like lambs to the slaughter

The song 'Time After Time' echoes across my mind --
Flashes of memories past;
Healing hopeful,
Love lost.
Dreams have become endangered species in my mind.
What does come of them?
Moment of happiness —
A lifetime of longing…
But, the alternative:
Time after time.

I was in a deep slumber,
And You reached out to me:
“Awake, my darling,” You whispered,
And I opened my eyes anew.

Don't lose yourself,
to anyone or anything;
value your health,
free your heart to sing.

My mother has a new relationship!
After the death of my father,
I wondered if there’d be another -
When we meet up, in the morning, to go walking,
She shares about the back-and-forth chats, that stimulate her mind, heart and spirit…
I wonder who he is…
Is he tall?
Is he dark?
Is he handsome?
He is none…
He doesn't speak, or interrupt,
But grows and challenges her;
Together they formed business ideas and
last night they formed a new nation?!
Who is this ‘ideal’ fella?!
ChatGPT!
Technology meeting the needs in this day and age —

As the days slip 
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 and slippery long ended.

It always feels
forever out of reach;
the finish line,
that momentous victory speech.

Mystery;
That is faith.
But can we have faith
in this world?
When it is so broken;
How did Michael Jackson’s face change?
Struck me while I sat
In church wondering the mysteries
Of the world.
Was it he who changed,
To fit into the world?
Facelifts: nip here and tuck there?
Was it nature?
Pigmentation malfunction?
Or us, who could not handle change,
That made him alter to
Make us feel less uncomfortable?
How different have we become
To make others feel safe,
But in doing so,
Fundamentally,
Lose ourselves altogether?

Throw away the net
of protection
in this world:
jobs, material possessions,
health and fall,
fall into the arms of love.
Trust you will be held,
Held in deep security,
by the Maker,
who wrote your days
before.

You are my safety net.

The rush;
Connecting thoughts, ideas and concepts
into words, stories and a lush
life, to be read by you;
pulsating, feel the ambush,
throughout the universe.
Symbiosis; can't get enough!

I spend my morning,
Sipping coffee (no surprise there),
gnawing breakfast (in bed), 
while reading poetry.
It is still.
As I scroll seeds 
Of insight from others' experiences,
Vulnerabilities and creativity.
I could be in Paris or Milan, 
Or in the Kimberleys;
I am transported with each line.
Inspiration poured into mine
soul. I feel I've lived a thousand lives
With every verse believed.
Relieved though, I'm safe at home, 
And the life I'm walking is my own.

Yesterday, I spent time with an elderly resident;
Jean, who is the ripe age of 103,
She has been dreaming of dead relatives,
And as she talked, her face shone with pure glee;
She'd spent the night communing in Heaven
Which brought her joy; the picture of eternity.

“I want to create,”
I said to myself.
To let bubble up what’s deep inside.
To live: jump off the shelf.

So splat, plonk, slam dunk.
And then from play,
To deeper things of this world,
To question: why are things this way? 

From thinking about me,
To think about us,
From survival, limitation, and not enough,
To live out the plan, maximus.

Throwing off the constraints 
Letting things fly,
Being intentional,
Seeing the significance if we don’t try.

The world needs us,
Today: right now!
Be present; hear the call,
Plant the seeds we’re born to sow.

Desolate.
Dry, like an arid desert;
Limited life contact,
Hopeless.

Crying was a mirage,
Only others seemed to hold the key;
That could unlock,
The healing springs from within.

But drip by drip,
Inner acceptance they bring;
More freedom within,
Who I am is the best place to begin.

My tears are the permission,
To grieve this long journey;
From before my birth,
The pain of a broken world that you’ve allowed me to live in.

Be here,
With these tears.
Don’t leap ahead,
And miss the healing in these cool springs.

When the tears fall,
They release life;
Permission to be,
Freedom to embrace.

New life,
But it first took courage,
To shed that first tear;
You faced the fear,
That held you captive,
But now you are free to fly.

On the wings of a new horizon;
To walk on dewy grass,
With the sun rising, new promises.
Try again, learn and grow stronger,
In your way and time.

Have you ever felt unsafe in your own skin?
If you haven’t, I don’t even know where to begin.
To get you to fathom,
The deep and lonely chasm.
When you speak,
Sounding only like a squeak,
Yet rattles around in the dark,
Trying to find the harbour with Your mark.

You give me life,
While he tries to ***** it out!

You build me up,
While he tears me down.

You bring clarity,
While he stirs up confusion.

You repair,
He retorts.

You restore.
He doesn’t stand a chance in hell!

Just like the root system
Deep underground,
We too are wired,
For love. Declare goodness,
Let hope in your heart sound!

I had become my grief, lost,
How I let myself, I did not know.
I thought I was on track,
That’s until I look back and find an unknown path.

I know I try to control,
To make sense of what does not.
But every time, You are there.
You have my back and You are everywhere.
This loop is all too familiar.
It’s time to change, but how?

You give me glimpses,
And I trust for a moment.
I am happy, then forget.
But I want to grow from this place.
I want to stand confidently, trusting Your grace.

You are with me.
You’re all around.
I am not lost,
But lovingly found.

I often write about birds and insects
and the sounds of nature
Around me…
But this morning,
A different kind of gallah
Sounds off;
The builders’ gaggle…
Construction cackle?
The workmen wag?!
Whatever it is,
they woke up the neighbourhood
With their speak
About as-phalt, bricks, and cm of gravel
And then it turned to
Their planned weekend escapades,
Too explicit to share here…

I found myself, this morning,
Participating in a ‘new’ sport.
Though timeless, reaching back to my youth.
As the days curb closer, the end of the year nears,
So do the shadows stretch out before me.
Chasing shade spots, as I pounded the pavement,
trying to hide from the sun, which was already 
shooting shards of heat and demanding her dominance.
Shade then became God’s grace revealed.

The earth still groans;
We lost our Shepherd
We’ve been left alone.
Now we have a lion roaming the earth, calling His herd,
Celebrate.
Lift your head,
Renew your hope;
Our best days are still ahead.

I love my job(s),
But today, I want to skip
Work.

I want to lay, lathered in the bath with bubbles
For hours.

I want to find a new favourite
Cafe and try a new flavour.

I want to pick up my paintbrushes
and swash down scant dashes
Of paint, ink, and textures
On a canvas.

I want to write
Poetry while drinking Plonk.

I want to play dress-ups
That's yet to come.

Today.

Have you ever just wanted to eat sugar straight from the bag?
To open your mouth wide and pour?
Not stopping for air.
But gasping for more --

Sometimes I have these cravings,
galore --

Do you know how hard
it is to pick up broken
eggshells scattered?
They shatter smaller and further
making picking up the pieces
painstakingly difficult;
fragile matter.

No more doubt.
No more unhealthy fear.
Shrink back shadows,
You are not welcome in my life.

No more shame.
No more people pleasing.
I shine a light on the truth,
That my future is bright.

No more playing small.
No more self-sabotage.
I stand again,
I will enlarge.

I will seek you for truth.
I will quieten the taunts.
I will stop the tremmers,
And breathe again.

I will receive my fortunes.
I will rejoice in my success.
I will reclaim lost ground,
I will rest.

A wander, canter, gallop or trot,
Your body becomes one with the horse.
As new movements pulse, pain is forgot;
Nature’s beauty relieves pain from the source.

Silence replaces the busyness of life,
The trees sound out their own tune.
Animals show us how to live,
And their movement illuminates how we can thrive.

Daily, I work so hard
To be straight,
Perfect.
To need not.
But daily, I am reminded
Of how crooked I am;
Abundantly needy.

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!

What happens after
success; the things you've
been hoping for,
working towards,
what happens then?

Flames lick —
The candle’s wick
Consuming all — 
Waxy thick.
Fire purifies
Impurities’ sick
Enflaming all diseases
And sin’s teases
Leaving them but a speck.

Stillness is where it all begins,
In quietness and rest, you will gain life again.
In release and trust is where it continues.
In standing, with arms wide open,
In outstretching hands,
In exhaling,
In breathing,
In being,
In.
Be.

I love Sunday for its quietness,
I love Sundays, for there is no rush.
I love Sundays for writing poetry.
I love Sundays for the hush.
I love Sundays for the calm before the storm.
I love Sundays because my mind reboots to the norm.
I love Sundays because I can take my soul for a walk,
And let it roam across heavenly realms.
I love Sundays to be without an agenda that I have to chalk.
I love Sundays, to remember.
I love Sundays, and that's where I will be,
Loving You more without animosity.

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.

As I cracked my farm-fresh
Egg into the hot, hubbling, bubbling
water this morn,
Swirled it around enough
So that egg whites formed,
A soft, safe sack, encasing space
It became poached.

Is that what you've done to me?

Kept me safe and poached me?!

Is that not the very act of
L O V E…

What has come of those days,
That I longed to pass?
What have come of those days,
Now that I long wish they last’d?

yesterday, I spied children peeking
through a hole in my fence,
ready with their legs stretching
out to step in, I watched in awe
at their bravery and marvelling,
"how far will they go?"
a far-off voice bellowed, they shifted retracting
and ran off giggling in glee
but I was left stunned thinking;
"When did my curiosity leave me?"

Oh gosh, how has that day of the year
Come around so fast, again…
That dreaded school photo day!

The day that marks progression,
The day that celebrates successful transition,
The day that snaps aging,
And the day that puts front and centre all that I have been avoiding!

Everything in me wants to ‘dream up’
Some wildly legitimate reason for my (ab)sense —

But then I am reminded of the sentiment from a wise friend,

“As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle…”

Ok, Paul, I will bear up and I will buck up!

I won't hide and be a prisoner to this Western world of beauty —

But, I will celebrate my aging with this portrait,

It will thus be known as,

“Portrait of a lady who lived authentically” —

Where have your words gone?
My lips forever praised you, and
Today is worthy for celebration
For you have delivered me,
You lift me in triumph!

BS, BS everywhere no authenticity to be found,
We all put up facades that ultimately **** us around.
Why do we kid ourselves,
Hiding our true selves,
Because the reality is too painful? so we bury our heads in the sand,
Rather than investing in self-care.

I long for You —
I pant for You —

Desperately, I scream, internally,
Till my face is blue —

Here, there is no water,
Only rock, capturing no dew;
But devastatingly reminds me:
There is no home but You!

What is true and what is false,
Swirls all around, sending us Into the abyss.
Off course, from our source,
We need to disconnect, from that source.

Cone back, retract,
and realise that
All you need is within you
Right here and right now

Don't fret and regret,
While trying to get your needs met
By others and in
Things,  that will never last.

All I need is within me right now
All I need is within me right now

Discipline your tongue
From lashing out at yourself
And others. Tame
It into a calming balm.

Don't fret and regret,
While trying to get your needs met
By others and in
Things,  that will never last.

All I need is within me right now
All I need is within me right now

Do not rush little beauty,
Nature's timing is perfect.
It will, when ready, gently unfold your petals,
Revealing how you are exquisite.
Though life may bruise you,
New colours will emerge.
Though there may be tears,
Whispery wind will refresh you with a new urge.
Rain will thus come, muttering your soil,
The sunshine with its sublime rays,
No toil will be wasted,
Because all is written on your days.

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!

He hears

Whenever I am lonely,
I cry out to  you.

Running —
Running —
Everywhere. 
No destination to be found?!
My heart longs,
For what cannot be satisfied;
With meaninglessness abound...in.
Stop!
Cease chasing after the wind. You'll n'er catch him.
Stop!

Take off that old self; 
With old thoughts and old patterns,
And patent yourself on Yahweh!

Because
My heart longs —
To play, to dance, to sing, to be free;
And find strays today!
Look up and see the new path before thee.

stop.
no, don't stop.
go. go farther and further than you've ever been before...
don't stop,
go.