mindfulness

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.

Blue tit

In the light places there

Is a tree of sparkling light

With a pitch-perfect blue

Tit balancing behind on

A new-sapping branch

So soft the little bird

Would feel, perched on

My trembling palm

I would never wonder at

It’s greeny yellow fluff

I can see why we lost

Humans cage these pretty

Little masterpieces, tricking

Our minds that they love

To share our sunless company,

Just another pidgeon

Friendly little orange eyes

Hoping for a pocketful of

Crumbs, come come, come

Close, daringly close,

Under the bench, how

Very close to me! How long

Will we two beasts be together.

Little and large, beating in

Our way, a normal scene

In spite of everything and,

Normal thing, he toddles off

Casual, almost flippant, away

Stepping, off, fork by forked

Step, pecking the Spring grass

Claustrophobia

What do we do when there
Is no space to breathe?
When our lungs can’t hold 

The water in our eyes
And it comes rushing

Out amongst these
Crocodiles that bite

Us. There’s no such thing
As love, our limbs think, 

As our blood cracks back,
Retreats into our heart,

For home, but the door
Is locked and the ventricles

Glare back, blank
Windows harbouring the

Eternity of Death
That lurks behind

Every breath. Ready
To pounce out like

a cat released to go
Hunting in the bird-

Filled night that
Quacks around us in

A cacophony of quarks
We can’t decipher as

Our hands go numb
With stress and our 

Hips contract around
Our basal strength

As it pours out
Uncontrollably and

Meanwhile where is
The chair? We haven’t 

Sat down for so long
We can’t remember

What rest means.
Be still, remember

It is always there
However far away

It seems, if we
Just stop to reclaim

The space around each breath.

What is it when we play the cello?

What is it when we light that candle in every digit of our left hand that knew no difference between the fingers before we stretched every one with that first song book, those first song-lines, 
A spider’s web stretched out along the page with flies caught on some of the rungs, some with their wings still in tact, some twinned up, some alone with a little speck of dust to confuse us. Twang

Twang they go as we see them in our fingers as we make them bold again in our brush strokes, strong, gentle strong as we throng together the little creatures on the page, back to the music whence they came.

Oceanopia

Much dark and thick possibility so much sound

Shooting up like a rock from the seas with myriad

Layers, layering upon layer in dry notes that jag

 

Shapes in the clay furrows already layered above

The waves ready for you, your sound summoned

Up from the deep so deep and dark so dark and

Deep deep breathless deep silent blackness blued

Out with dark deep darkness calling you back

 

And pulling you up without tension is

A perfect curving swoop of free joy and peace

Without cessation floating fast motion rolling crisply

With sudden air bursting nobly, regal flare, to say

Blow rushed Hey to the Sun and the stars and

 

Their rays and the Moon and the waves and

The bright bright tight spaces dancing, tickling

Upper world before swinging back round to the

Beginning of everything and into everything

That holds food and fish and blue and

 

Dark and deep and low and teeming back

Black and back up above, to breathe

Like a wave a breath like the first. The first.

Love Again

Love is when nothing distinguishes

It is life in its singlest form.
It was the first and is the last
Also, time after time.

Love has no rhythm, it is too
Abundant to rise and fall
There can be no more nor
Less. The amount is fixed in pi.

Love has no soul, it cannot
See, it is as shapeless as
Dusk, and, as dust, finds every
Corner, and always returns.

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.

Quantum Faith

As sure as fire is hot,
Moons move. The thing I am now will

Swap places with another

All is equal at the sun atomic level.
No questioning reality,
Expect it of anything

Time is constant, possibly.
Some stars have made it to our eyes in

An everlasting instant

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