I see a brightness shifting,
shining,
it falls across a wide white plane –
a wall.
It shimmers,
it dances,
it glows.
The light is suffused with connections
I fail to comprehend.

I am here
It is there.
It cannot be held.
It has no name.
It’s silence.
It fills my small, lately born, heart
with unconsidered, infinite love
and unconditional trust.

Yet grow I must.

How little I know of life.
Some things stay.
Some move away.
That is all I know.

I need but I do not want.
There is pleasure but I have no driven desire.
The words I have learned are few.

Is this hand I hold up mine?

******

The door to the garden is open.
The cat sleeps there in the sun.
I am not the cat.
The cat has a separate name,
yet I vaguely believe the cat’s mine.
Somebody said it was so.
The cat won’t acknowledge the claim.
The cat wouldn’t sit on the mat if I asked it to
The earth is pleasantly hot so I sit beside the cat.

I understand now about blame.
I was told to be good
so I am.
That’s the game.
I sit where I’m told to sit
and I wont start digging again
although I love to make the earth into mud.
Mud is akin to my blood.

The flowers explode
They are fireworks.
Their petals are cups of sun.
Perfumes are gentle sighs.

None of this is mine
but I see the brilliant auras
brimming into my eyes
and stretching beyond my sight.
I love the varied colours.
I love the dazzling light.

******

The autumn leaves
round my mother’s feet
rise in miraculous whirlwinds.
I want to walk faster and faster.
Wherever she walks I must run.
Today is going to be fun.

******

Here enters death to the scene.
No screams.

Deadly silence covers it all.
They hide it behind a closed door.
I skirt around the threshold
cowed as a beaten cur.
If I was permitted to howl I would
I might find some relief
but my heart grew around the deep open wound
of that overwhelming grief,
stitched together hurriedly,
in dreadful, dark resilience.

What is and what is not
doesn’t matter now.
Everything we own is borrowed.
Time is the thing that breaks our wings
before we learn to fly.

******

Door after door
after door after door
lead to realisation.
Experience is essential.
Knowledge must be acquired.

Entering doors
Exiting doors
Exploring without liberation
Until infinite love is a memory
faintly grasped as it slips away.

Life is a search for that love.
Love searches for life
and all roads lead to the door of death.
It stands open
waiting for time.

Free choice and fixed destiny
are sadly intertwined
on that straight path home
that turns and winds away.

Years in a pulsing pit could not destroy me long.
It burnished my wandering soul.
I only want to be whole.

******

Frankenstein’s creature walks alone
abandoned by his maker.
There will be nights
he will think
he has come to know
all that there is to know.
It’s never truly so.

There are nights as cold as a witches tit
and nights that burn him with yearning
and grip his new heart in a vice.
When everything melts into sorrow
every curse happens twice.

Born fresh and made to suffer
we are part of a tiring throng
bound on a moving belt
with nowhere left to belong

To forget is a consummate blessing
until death comes along.

Words are useless.
We forgot the language of angels.
We’re turgid, turgid and bent.

Bell, book and dripping candles
and meaningless ritual days
bring me no relief.
I never believe those lies.
The spirit is rooted in earth
and reaches the vaulted blue sky.

******

If it happens once it can happen again.
This may go on forever.
It may wait for us to stop,
to renew our forsaken pledges
and show that we really do care.

God is in the garden.
God is not hidden in prayer.

******

I remember the sweetness of scented air
stretched out on the open moors
where the plaintive song
of the birds above
the high hard winds at the Tor
resembled a holy choir.

Now we walk beneath
through the mire.

******

We are living in Plato’s Cave
watching ourselves as shadows
thrown large across a wall
and failing to see the fire

The world that I entered has shrunk to this.
We are in retreat.
Delusions have swallowed us up.

My desire to create is both flight and fight
an expression of love to kill demons
when the shadows stalk my sagging floor
in the lonely long late hours.

******

Incandescence,
pure and fresh,
can still be seen through a wavering veil.

I do not cease to seek a glimpse
of the light I once so clearly saw
in the glory of life’s central core .
I’ll surmount this bitter clay
and find that powerful vision
while any days remain

Reflections in rain on ice cold glass
make rainbows of window panes.

Four ponies out there in the snow
are kicking up crystal brightness.
Their tails become heavens banners
in the fields of battle again.

I will be as I was before,
as we are born to be.
Not sad-eyed sitting here
alone, empty,
exhausted, numb,
as sometimes I become.

That light I cannot hold or name
will still on earth remain
held in the winding spirals
of infinite energy.

We surely can be the same.
Angelic, fallen, human.
Our hearts are deeply hurt
but our souls will never be lost.