Where have you gone, words?
She vanished like vapour;
No longer lingers like a whisper from my perception, but she girds
Them. She used to pour out endlessly,
flowing like a babbling brook.
Now, dry, like the earth before conception. 
Parched, she sits desolately,
Crying out Spirit fill anew!

East and West are not wide enough apart
To make me forget your love.

My backyard is like the Garden of Eden;
Where birds flourish freely, so too do lizards and worms.
I find myself opening my doors seemingly, 
to welcome the sounds of nature.
But it's also to entice me out to the heartwarmingly,
tree-lined places where I can hide my faces,
And be one, meekly, at first, then more boldly;
Naked and brazen, absent of hazing,
to sit, listen and write poetry.

I never thought
my poetry was ****** —
But do I want
to arouse; stimulate evocative
emotion,
and stir longing irrevocably
within?!
Yes, undeniably, YES!
Do not all of us want that full-body
response?

Richly!

Have a goal, they taught,
So, I set out but faced roadblocks.
Keep trying, they said,
So, I didn’t give in and embraced the setbacks.
Sometimes, stalling, enduring the detour,
Brought me more life than just paychecks.

Remember!
When the ground feels shaky
And things are falling skyward;
Peace is our gift, embrace it
with both hands.

Good and bad —
Light and darkness —
Day and night —
I've tried to be divine,
And I've run from evil,
Or so it seemed...

But the evil within me —
Wouldn't leave;
I pray,
I repent,
I accept shame
as my cloak;
I shrivel the goodness
Unseen...

I split,
Disconnect;
Become a kaleidoscope
of regret.
Days lost
in a fruitless
quest —

Isn't it easier
to just
Embrace the evil within me?!

I have empty boots strewn
on my back deck.
I have empty boots still
in my cupboard
not yet walked their ordained path.
I have empty boots
and empty dreams,
not really living,
or so it seems.
Where would have those steps taken?
Who would I have been?
Where could I now be if I took those steps of my wishful making?

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.

I don’t feel seen,
which he doesn’t mean,
he just doesn’t know,
how his pain affects me so.
Nurtured by a narcissist, he bleeds
his pain all over us without knowing his greed.
As his air dries up, he uses it not to love,
but to slip subliminal slime:
I am never enough.

Heavy thoughts, conflicting views,
Right and wrong, black and white
Chasm…
Transformation comes as we allow faith to catch us, hold us, love us,
In the gap of not knowing.
But knowing the one who knows us: loves us, breathed into us.
Exhale!

The king of eye muscle surgery
reins
Although my eye wound weeps
and complains,
He has helped me see one
Therefore, I cannot be glum
So I'll kick my heels up and count my gains.

As the sun slumbers in the dark
The background music:
"tchik-tchik-tchik”  
The cicadas pressing against the bark,
Their rostra stuck into the trunk
to pump out the sap
Just like us as we nap
In these states both parading as drunk.
High in the deep blue sky,
Swifts glide like arrows: “Weer!! … Weer!!!"
They paint ‘Van Gogh’ esk clouds with effortless cheer,
All singing goodbye to the sun with gleeful sighs.
Large, loud locusts oscillate above
Their wings like cymbals: "tsk-****-tsk"
Acclaiming their love with a cheeky wink
Hello darkness, they shout with a buzz!

I saw them rain clouds —
In the far-off distance.

So I went about my day;
Flipping and fleeting,
Bopping and bleating,
Swiping and sweeping.

Until they were overhead —
And didn't they get me then!

Desire drives destiny;
conflicting head and heart disconnects,
complete abandonment overwhelms
Teetering between mutiny,
Or of becoming.

Dreams haunt my nighttime,
hope deferred makes my heart sick.
Courage is what I crave,
Being brave all the time,
Amounting to something.

Grey skies loom,
Threatening oncoming turmoil.
Or, a promise of loosening
Fixed ways?

flat on my back;
muscles seized
after an overdue  
workout.
resting,
trying to relax,
I know it'll
just take time to
work out.

What is it about loose eyelashes
That prompts wofty wishes;
Are they heaven’s kisses
In disguise?

We all want to lift our eyes
Above the cloak of disguise
Even if it may compromise
The facade, and authenticity’s surprise.

This world is concrete;
In Western buildings and streets,
In the here-and-now, we can flee
And dismiss lofty things as absolute.

But we are meaning-makers,
We are constant risk-takers.
We are pursuers for magic’s sake,
And may our quest we foolheartedly take.

Focusing just on intelligence,
Denies the complete picture;
Overthinking small matters,
Distracts your mind;
Omitting your strength from the full experience,
Disconnects your heart from your soul;
Losing yourself in others,
Deadens your true potential;
Instinctively living is only possible when you
Don’t hide from your truth.
Shame is the slime that obscures your view,
Demolishing the almighty power within.
Hiding was a survival mechanism, but now,
Disentangling from these faulty patterns will bring you true life.

I was out foraging in the woods today —
This morning, when it was cooly,
dark, and quiet, only the birds had a say.

I saw the sun force the darkness to hide,
Allowing me to see;
Strewn branches, twigs and leaves astride.

Dead waste or my fire’s delight?!
I came home successfully,
Joyfully and proudly with the efforts of might.

Henceforth, shy and scared, I shall not be,
But embrace all uncertainty,
Step into the future with expectancy,
And see the scales, chains, ties fall from thee.

I’m calling you back deep, dear one.
Deep, into the fullness of love.
Unceasing. Deep work has begun,
Everlasting, freedom-flying dove.

I put on Jean Paul Gautier for women this morning,
but the pungent that befell on me was cut grass,
From the house next door,
freshly mowed this morning.
As I waited for my lift to work,
The smell permeated my skin
And my inner being;
A fresh start to my day!

As I sit at my dining table this morning,
The already hot sun
Caresses my face,
Lifting my eyes,
Golden rays singe
My retinas, my lids shut like a vault.
My mind teleports me
To a summer in South America.
I can hear fingers picking at guitar strings,
I see men with scruffy moustaches
and sombreros. And I
Smell fresh limes.
I lick my lips and sigh,
“Oh, to be back there!”
Fully adjusted to the darkness,
Reality informs me its time for work.
Can I wear some earrings, a bracelet, a necklace
To remind me of this treasured memory?!

the smell of freshly cut grass;
so infamous that companies
have tried to bottle it a mass
but it doesn't include the many
mud, smashed sticks, twigs
insect bits, that accumulate
and get thrown in the trash.
the smell of success!

From nowhere...
I started singing:
"calling you forever..."
and in my spirit, I heard the reply...
"I've been calling you forever!"

I owned the streets this morn,
like darkness owned the night.
And with each step, I owned the street
like winter owned the grass;
tight and stealth,
sleek, powerful and full of wealth,
as I walked those streets,
I reclaimed my health,
as I walked those streets,
I reclaimed my  voice,
as I walked those streets
I told MN who was in charge --
not her or any other man or woman!

Sparse cars slipped past like whispers of the fog,
their gas fumes slid into the clouds: no beginning and no end.

And Blackbirds, oh Blackbirds,
You were my lagging escort this morn,
You sat still, like frozen shadows
too cold to move and too scared to be seen.

I wake,

To Heaven’s tears

Dripping down...

Their gentle potter-patter

Kiss the earth--

God’s promises:

To make,

All things new again;

Right.

Stuck, enclosed in a glass jar.
Child-like, naked, incapable;
Round and round in circles, longing to move forward.
Freedom the babe craves, dreaming to be the One who opens the lid.
Observable to the judging onlookers,
Such power was relinquished.

Gratitude
Is Goodness ****?
Noticing goose pimples, because
I think it’s the heart of noticing the Holy Spirit, attuned.
Resilience; overcoming the setbacks
in life and spinning them into gold dust.
Rejoicing in difficult times;
Fear, and expanding into ever-increasing wanderlust.
Faith;
Play like no one’s watching,
giving legs to the dreams you’ve been harbouring
in your heart
Persist and resist the shameful stares and unrealistic expectations; depart.
Start a new and see your dreams through.

People say things like:
Where did that time go?
Things are moving so fast...
and it's true, and they are,
but when you're in the moment
they're not. It is only when
you look back or look in the mirror,
that you notice time has truly passed,
and you see the grey hairs;
and exclaim: "Oh, I am old now!"

life is full of good times,
bad times and everything
that blurs the lines.

my good times vary,
overseas trips, and
my heart doing flips.

but the bad times,
they run the same script;
you aint good enough, never will be, what a trip!

now, the in-between,
seems so dull not to mean
anything, but it's mine.

my life is full
of good times,
bad times and
everything in between.

As a rule of thumb,
Read things twice.

I always thought I had green eyes,
they are in fact blue.
Envy has discoloured them
and obscured my true view.
Having now matured;
trauma, aging, greying (audible gasp),
healing is happening
in ways not anticipated,
nor valued at first.
But now, I am embracing
my true blue eyes to see anew.

Must we endure guilt’s futility;
To take stock of our soul’s condition and
To release all unnecessary spoil, to
Be comforted by our Maker’s redeeming love?

Step by step your dependence grows;
Worldliness discarded: trophies, titles, triumphantism — the tyranny of the soul.
Eventually bare: standing face to face with the glory there,
No distractions; joy starts to pop up in simplicity
A smile, a glance, a taste, a dance, a puzzle solved, an encounter by chance.
Now you can live more healthily.

When we sit,
I hear your tears,
On the inside;
Crying out: “See me!”
They shout!

When we sit,
I see your heart,
On the outside;
Singing: “Hear me!”
It hums.

When we sit,
I feel your spirit
Between us
Vibrating: “You belong!”
Deep within
And deeply strong.

One. All. Together.
Unconflicted;
Congruent,
Powerful.

Why do we call it a heat wave?
No one is saying hello or goodbye,
The heat stifles; we are immovable.
It would be grave if we waved, ******* all energy as we try.

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

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.

We are but a speck of dust,
Gold and valuable, but
Small and crushable.
Worthy of all love, and yet
Wounded we live, held.

Accolades have been my fortress
Comparisons my torturer,
Liberation seemed unreachable,
daunting under duress,
A well-chosen ***, destined for my future....

Venturing the path trodden less
Seemed anxiety-provoking; insane
A roaring lioness,
but with the mouse hidden in my mane.

Held just the same, but
Hoping, wishing to drop them; release the pain
Dreams of a different life, unrut
Freedom and flow beckon my name.

Held, secure
To dance and sing,
To create and recreate,
To come in
To alignment, union:
Holy Communion.
Sovereign hold.