When the light shines on you

When the light shines on you

And the dew has gilded

The corners of your smile

Then smoothness abounds


Echoing peace throughout

Timelines of hope

Upon the good green earth

Rivers reach their fine fingers

Into the sky of God


Searching, aiming, finding truths

Discarded amongst the pine cones

Of psyche and suffering


All of this happens, softly,

When the light shines only upon you



Letter to Him #3 (07/06/16)

“If light is in your heart, you will find your way home” – Rumi

Can’t you see what it is that we have? Open your eyes and see the magic right in front of you. I cannot force you to see; I can but show you the way. Why do you stand between us? Because you are running from your true self. Always running away from the light and truth of it all. How long can you hide? How long will you want to live in darkness? You said you feel that you are dead. Can’t remember the last time you felt moved. I remember. I remember how you cried in my lap about the child we’ll never have. You were beautiful. Sad, but somehow strangely serene. Your eyes glowing with tears, shining a little more blue with feeling. What was that? The feeling you shut out. The pain of living. That is why you feel dead. Can’t you join me here? Here with my back against a horse chestnut tree, sitting in the long grass, the smell of wild garlic scenting the air. Light falling through the myriad tones of leaves of the trees of the park. And people walking, living. Being part of this: here and now. There is beauty in this fragile moment, passing into the wastes of time. Come and be fragile awhile, with me. There’s so much I want to share with you. So much I want you to see. If only you wanted to live, truly live. You could accomplish so much if you gave your heart to life and light. Partake in the splendour of it all. It is lesser without you. Add your spirit to the mix of things living, bursting with life and joy. Why do you hide your light in a bushel? Why pretend to be small and unaware when there is greatness growing within you? Take root, little acorn – become an oak. Is it only I that sees? Calls you by your greater name? I wish you all the joys and blessings of the life you deserve. But help me to make you happy. You must help me to do this. Let me show you the sunlight falling through these trees. Come and dance with me to the earth-music in our ears. Reach out and touch it- this life. Not through false highs, fake joys…through love, bliss, peace, innocence, togetherness…it is all here for the taking. Join me. I beseech you to come and join me. It is written in eternity. Learn it by heart and let go of the mind of things. Be free. Be uplifted, carried, held, transported, in the arms of the divine. It so longs to reach out and touch you. But you must let it in. Hear it call you by your old name. I beg of you, remember yourself. Come back to yourself. Do not go to waste. I see all that you are becoming. Do not give up. Perhaps there is a long way for us to go. Perhaps you must walk alone. Perhaps I must let you go. But please, go towards your true destiny. Grace. Go towards the grace in your heart. Follow your true feet…the pitter patter of the soul incandescent bright, tracking its true home. What more can I say? What more can I try? I am tired and you are not listening. I tried to teach you but you would not hear, so I stopped speaking. And then we began to shrink. To block out the grace and magic that brought us together. It will not desert me long. When it calls, I must go. Return home. And if you do not come with me, I must leave you where you stay. I have to live in the light. It is where I belong. I can rest a while in the darkness, but I must live in the light. Come, join me and remember it is where you belong too. You have grown pale and grey since you shut out the light. You have forgotten your true complexion. But sometimes, I see it shine in you. In a flash you are restored. If only you would believe in my vision and become what you were meant to be. Are my prayers heard? Is there a God to pray to? I cannot say. Will you make it? I do not know. Who is the greater fool – you or I? You, for living the way that you do? Or I, for believing you could live differently? Which of us is truly delusional, in denial? If only my love were enough to heal this situation. If only my prayers were heard, our goodness noted. If only there were an answer that ended in peace. It is so hard to pray for good when there is so much darkness. It is so hard. It is so good.


I Knew You Then

I kissed your neck and cradled you,

I kissed your eyes.

Your hand opened to mine

Imparting spirit.

Two broken.


The lights had long gone out,

Wisteria resting. A silent house

Holding us, dark,

Sobbing nocturnal

We knew what this meant.


Turn your back when it hit you most,

I suppose I did the same.

I had to go. I had to leave.

The night moved through me, beckoning unfaithful.

Something died and was being born.


Then, morning.






Freedom ~ Suffering

I went away to be radically alone

And found the free burden of the total weight of existing.

Those apron strings of institution

Had me bound pretty tight.

I think that now I know what it means to be free:

It means to be purposeless upon the steps of being,

Unchained entirely save for the trickling of life

tick- tick- ticking in the ears.

So – flabbily, unfixated, I lunged at shape,

Poured libido amongst the gutters of cognition

finding nothing but excrement.

All is impaired by the absence of suffering

And impaired too by that wish for its absence.



Light or You

There was always a tone, an atmosphere,

Always a mist, like somebody had died

Or something had been lost,

Though we could not remember what.

But still, we were haunted by your darkness, the tension

Eating all I tried to create, like dry rot through old wood.

But where were the flowers, the shoots, the breeze?

You blocked them out. Turned your head.

Refused to be let in.

Again my world was cleft –

You or life. Light or you.

You Haunt Me Still

You haunt me still, beautiful silent ghost

Pale creation of the soul, emaciated infant

Breathing pure from the other realm, that place

Where wretched and dark are other,

Where truth shines and is wrapped in white cloth peace,

Unlike here where I cower, in memory of you

To feel the soul tighten in my chest, like a hem of loss,

Desolate birth, a dark bird soaring desperate-clawed

Clutching the warm heart I carried, lost,

Along with you. Along with love. And now

That heart hangs heavy or not at all, and all

Is quite quiet, silent and grey, except for this

Sepia dance, a rose, and everything

Upon and bleak and barren stage


He is the spring

He is the spring, and my heart is blooming

His gentle light a nourishing sun unfolding my petals

My heart shines dewy against the altar of dawn


There was too much darkness when there was he

Who was my winter. I untie the web he wove upon me

Familiar, it must go


For he is the spring, and he is here

My hand reaches out to him as if to say

“Take me with you when you walk through purple clover”


So – glow gold vernal light

And burst forth pastel blossoms

Behold! the earth: green and holy

Walk free from darkness and return

Sweet-innocent to new light

Earth Grace

I needed this quiet, to remember myself

To let the soul expand and occupy its fullness

To bed down in the soft cool pleats of solitude

And roll, singly, in luxurious infinitude.

I needed this time, to regather what I thought lost

To sing myself, in silence, back to soul music

To nurture the far reaches of my spirit branches

And rest, unencumbered, in the arms of earth grace