A breeze comes
The trees sway
Prior to the breeze
All is stillness
The mind is a breeze
Follow it back to its source
And become still
~Wu Hsin
Author: A. Gouedard
Sorrow
the dark is full of shining stars
the moon will fade tomorrow
the morning sun is coming up
these things are sure as turning fate
but i can only sit and wait
the night will surely follow
the house is there but we are not
no fire burns within the grate
now the hour is growing late
home and my heart are hollow
no matter how the birds may sing
I sit here full of sorrow
Swans
the clouded sunlight through the trees
casts shadows, stilled, across the lake
the silvered white of floating swans
shines out against the gathered gloom
eyes that shed slow tears recover
with beauty there, to rest upon
Bank Holiday Blues
Bank Holiday gloom seeps into the room
from a flat sky, full of grey light,
pressed to the glass of the window
three days of no brightness
changes the view
this hollow whiteness
deadens the day
the sounds become softer
the memories harder
of all that is vanished away
When I am Old (revised)
Dedicated to my Mother ~
when i am old i wont do anything
but think
and run my life back and forward
in my mind
in translucent back-lit visions
the trek to the kitchen and back
a long journey
re-gaining at last the armchair
i sleep
to dream dreams of the long gone
i will develop a liking for jelly and custard
milk pudding
soup from a can and cheese with jam
cream cakes
and forget what i meant to have for breakfast
the taps will drip, the fire will burn cold
windows rattle
and the mice will move in unafraid
as company
and eat the fabrics to tatters
I will confuse the books i have read
with memories
i will see the ghosts of my family
standing by
and wonder if they wait for me in the night
I wont care about any of this
watching light
watching shadows move across the walls
distant birds
i will ignore all bad news and live in imagination
drifting back to childhood again
so clear
with all my family gathered around
the dead ones
now is just a space between sleeping and waking
The Grove has a new tree
I have updated my post about the Garden Grove because I was given a Wild Service Tree today. This tree was grown from seed from a tree in an ancient woodland in Gloucestershire.
There are more details about the history of the tree on the Garden Grove posting.
Circle Declaration
The wrong words have been spoken.
They summon up famine,
injustice and grief.
The line is narrow and doesn’t turn back.
Progress and riches,
shot like an arrow,
Power and greed pull back the bow.
I hear it groan, as it strains and creaks.
The higher it flies the further it falls.
The circle is endless,
The earth is all-knowing,
Liquid with sunlight
Holy and starbright
A mystery sings, at the heart of it all.
The movement is one of coming and going,
Eternally growing,
naturally flowing.
For wisdom and balance we send out the call.
Birds
so much is shared through migrations
like birds dropping seeds as they fly
some cultures will grow and flourish,
some seeds will wither and die
looking back on history
and the incessant weave of the world
i see patterns intertwined, growing
interchange of art and design
leaves that bud from one tree
the branching of language and speech
a map of where we’ve all been
it says nothing of where we are going
in this we know less than the birds
Farewell to Summer
we look to the future of warm winter fires
farewell to sweet summer, before long to return
the hedgerows are full of the fruits of the sun
we sowed in good trust and reap what we earn
John Barleycorn, he must die once again
we harvest the grain for the threshing floor
returning the first gifts to bless the land
it is the time to give thanks for our winter store
A Triad for Happiness
Three necessary things for Happiness:
Taking pleasure in simple things, nurturing creativity and lending a helping hand
The Dreaming Path 