there is a time to be at peace
there is a time to ask no questions
there is a time to stop all wandering thoughts
lay quite still and feel
there are times of such perfection
i wonder if they’re real
time is always passing
no joy or pain is lasting
here beside the fire
listening to your breath
there is quiet satisfaction
in open simpleness
A sudden hare, across the field,
Swerves and shifts, avoids the breath of death,
In shadowed cloud and sunlight leaping.
Against the light, dark wings revealed,
Downward sweeps, a shifting hawk,
A breath held tight in frozen time.
The hare escapes the talons keeping.
This life, this shifted breath, this joy, is mine.
blue silent and deep
loud white rolling
thundering in
green light through wave curl
sun sparkle shimmering
drawn back slowly, heavy
to rush fast back toward me again
holding my eyes for fast passing hours
captured in a spell
moving with my breath
the moons pull
spins me in force
pulls me down
throws me out
gasping to the sky
there is a time
for slipping through
where two worlds meet
the fair folk have a name for it
a name i will not tell you
it must remain unspoken
there is a time
the wind keeps turning
here and there
all the cows are restless
dogs bay at the moon
owls hoot in chorus
moths tap at your window
the cats wont let you stroke them
the horse will kick at the stable door
the word means wonderful,
open, charming,
delicious, exciting,
delightful,disarming,
beautiful,
unhinged
on the edge
of the dark wood
i sit
holding my breath
The Dreaming Path 