contentment

A place of greater safety

What if I woke up one

Morning and the sound

Of courting blue tits

In the Holly teased the

Edges of the light?

What if the lung of my

First waking breath

Was cleaner with the

Trafficless calm as

I rolled out, feeling for

My first draft of tea?

What if the garden patch

Was crotcheted with little

Notes of purple from the

Blushing bumble-bee loved weeds?

What if I could read and breathe

The sun-long day to myself, safe

As houses. I can, lucky me, how

Grateful I am.

Savasana

Let the rude earth warm me
Let me peace shake,
Let my  time here spend
Centimeters above.

I can hear pulses,
Below jaw, above voice,
Behind knees to feet that speak
To the ground, for fear

of troubling the hands with the full weight of the sky.

A stroll in the park

Oh there is a peace that
Blows out my core and
Shakes every pip in its
Case

Oh there is a place in my
Bark that creaks when I
Stretch out my feet on
Air

A pace made of peace is
My breath as it breaks
Space between each step’s
Brace

Watching you sleep like a lion

image

Yours is a perfect face and it’s inhabited by the perfect sleep of a perfect mind

Whose full idea of life is to be as quiet and still as possible, a true creature

Unperturbed by the weight of humanity, At one with the quiet behind it

Perplexed by unnecessary ornament that
Ferments reality into human fabric

That cloaks and chokes the bright buzz
Beneath the haze of small talk

You forget the tongue

I always think the first epiphany
Is the last. Have you ever

Touched your palate, pretending you are it?

Imagine tongue as finger,
Explore the mouth and
Surprise delight to sit at
Heaven.

Different keys for different flavours,
Life is a difference between mushroom and banana. Use its

Loudest instrument, to communicate Consciousness to
Your roof, as if you were
Your own saviour, blessed by your own kiss

Throughout Nature

The water is all around us and can
Lift us. We will never sink if we
Drown doubt with open – eyed gratitude

The maker is continuous and so
Should we, a product, be, for
We form all in our own image

Continuity in Hope, and it repeats
Us so everything will come
Up at sum point, mathematically.

Hope never ceases, like Time, it is,
Bright, you will not find a black
Hole that’s not shot with hope – spots,
Throughout.

Deciduous awe

In the bark there is a
Swirl,
Press it, let its edges round
Yours,
Look down the avenue’s
Trees
With wind reaching in, to
Spine,
To the roots of your soul
Twined
To Earth’s grace, rolling on  
Round itself, round the sun,
a God.

April Sun in Scotland

Light everywhere, swimming in the brooks,
Springing off each root and mound of moss.

Then underneath the light, the quiet heat
Softly prizes lamb-pink blossoms out of blue.

Springing back

Light, we can
Dance again,
Without the
Rules of Frost
To hem us in.

The world as womb

It is the feeling of being
Cradled,
No matter what you’ve left
Unconfessed.  

It is the feeling of being
Warmed,
No matter how many scars
Deface you.