Can I feel this
heart-swelling,
heart-filling,
breath-quickening
RAGE,
if I have not love?
Can just words,
lines & swirls
melded together on a page,
create this response, this
hand-shaking,
heart-thudding,
stomach-swirling,
pain-fuelled
FURY
if I have not love?
Heart,
breath,
hands –
the body doesn’t lie.
Here,
love lives inside.
Time together coming to an end,
as trains approach to take us to our separate destinations;
Hugging you again –
we do that a lot –
bending down to fit my arms
around your now slighter frame;
Kissing your soft cheek goodbye,
Holding your hand with deep love and connection,
Looking back at you as I walk away,
Your face bursts forth a splendid,
whole-soul smile
and clear as glass I think:
‘I am looking at my own, smiling face!’
…Mum
As I sat alone in a wine-cafe (yes, such a thing exists!), swirling & sipping a glass of something red & chewing chilli-seasoned olives while listening to Sleeping at Last I penned this oh so short poem:
Cherries swirling,
Hands held, smiles open,
Dancing around the glass;
Spinning together til
Dizzy with delight as they take turns
Sliding down steep sides with
Warmth and gentle power.
My eye caught this beautiful scene of the sunlight through my front window this afternoon & I paused to take it in… the roses & green grass behind and, in the middle, this framed calligraphy of the beautiful, guiding poem Desiderata.
As I take time off following the end of a beautiful, hard job that stretched, broke (in bad & good ways), grew, shaped, blessed, fulfilled & thrived me…
As I take time off to think & feel & plan & be, before starting a new challenge & path ahead…
As I take time to enjoy art & reading & space & friendship,
this poem speaks to me anew & I am enjoying living it’s advice to (poem summary ahead):
Go placidly amidst the noise & haste & remember what peace there may be in silence.
Be on good terms with all persons.
Listen.
Don’t compare.
Enjoy plans & achievements alike.
Be at peace with God. See the beauty amidst the ugly drudgery it the world.
Be yourself.
Yes, be yourself.
Be yourself.
Through this hard year I have learnt the value of being more myself.
Of self-awareness, understanding & acceptance.
Acceptance which leads to better growth – of self & others.
And to the beautiful power & freedom of working, living, relating from a place of ever-more Me-ness as I continue to push on and let go.
As I continue to grow into the stunning living poem I am & write & draw my own story as I go.
Though the raging waves
spray salt in your face,
hurting the cuts which cover your lips
from biting your tongue to hold truths in.
As the winds whirl around you,
whipping hair into your eyes and
lashing your vulnerable skin,
drawing tears of blood to run down your cheeks.
While you shake and shiver as
coldness seeps deep into your being,
tensing your body and spirit.
Through stinging, lashing and shaking
remember:
The waves will still,
The wind will calm,
And the warmth will return to your
thoughts and bones.
And then you will realise this truth;
A truth born out in the molecules of the universe,
A truth which is true when feelings are not…
Salt purified you.
Tears released your pain.
And that cold,
that wearying, biting, cold,
That cold preserved you.
No one questions why someone is sitting,
Empty handed,
By themselves,
At the sea.
We know.
At the sea,
We understand
this act of
Being
with one’s thoughts.
But.
Bizarrely.
Doing that in a cafe in London makes
people will think you’re a weirdo.
Brighton Beach, 26.5.19
Thick,
fluffy,
white bread,
sliced by your soft old hands.
Toasted,
golden brown,
reminding me of crunchy autumn leaves.
Wearing a heavy coat of yellow butter like a duvet,
giving comfort,
and warmth,
and homeliness.
A satisfying crunch and warm butter flooding my mouth,
awakening my taste buds,
and stirring my heart
with warmth that transcends temperature…
This evening,
the weather is mild,
but my heart is cool.
And for the first time in near two decades,
I crave the comfort of your toast…
And you.
