Meeting My Inner Child

in the midst of a storm of thunder

when hail stones fell from dark skies

a child came crawling to me

he came to me from his mother

sent into my protection

he was little more than a babe

 

i stopped and stooped to lift him

i looked into his soft little face

i saw bright eyes full of wonder

he seemed made of wonder and grace

i placed him onto my back

 

i told him to cling very tight

but he flung himself backward to earth

beyond where my hands could reach

i turned and raised him again

held him in tender embrace

 

i explained he had to be strong

for a journey

arduous

long

but we’d be safe

in the end

 

he smiled at me

like a friend

 

 

 

Broken Wings

Romantic love is a fragile thing;
joyous, beguiling, appealingly sweet.
At the first fearful thought it flies away
a trembling bird on a shattered wing.
Frightened away by too much enquiring,
too many questions, best left unasked,
too honestly answered, unwisely perhaps.

In the garden, where once was a breeze
that gently seduced and played with your hair
there now comes a storm that bows down the trees
tugs at the branches and strips all the leaves.
I heard the twigs snapping in two.

We lash the trunk to a stake for the strength.
We discover how shallow the roots are sunk.
Love grows stronger or love lies wounded.
There is no denying the truth.

The lessons of Cupid and Psyche
are as old as the well worn challenging hills.
We wander and wonder
and never will learn not to ask.

I hand you healing as best I can
to conjure the summers return.
A simple concoction of words could suffice.
You didn’t hear me.
You didn’t heed them.
You heard only bad weather news.

Now we don’t talk about love any more.
We lost all our sense of the deeper feeling.
Now the door to my heart is sealed
against storms, real, imagined or fleeting,
by your, oh so kindly said, gentle words:
‘I will always love you, truly, I mean it.
I will always love you my darling one,’
and then, oh, so revealing,
resounding throughout every possible meaning,
that final, heart wrenching
‘But…………’

In the Dock

‘remember you’re loved,’ you said
‘always remember that’
like a life-belt handed before a storm
those storms i never see coming

but what happens
on monday, tuesday,
wednesday, this week
until the weather is fine again
on friday, saturday,
sunday, next week

it’s not about words
but the lack of them
sink or swim
I can’t ask you the reason
you won’t speak
you are floating way off-shore

you leave me
to think
on dry land
to work out
what I did wrong
and when I tell you
you will say
‘no it wasn’t that,
it was this’
something i never thought
something i never did
something misunderstood
you held onto
and kept to yourself

this time i wont think
and you can tell me
or not as you wish
you can tell me
the magic is dead
it’s not dead in my head
it’s not dead in my heart
it’s not dead in the world
it’s sitting waiting
for you to come back
from your sailing trip
so am I

Escaping from the Tower

Climbing the mountain, trying to reach the tower
Confronted by a dragon, endlessly asking me riddles,
While a great storm gathers all about us
Thunderbolts roar, lightning reflects on my shield

(“What do you do in that room all the time?
What are you thinking about?’’
I stop to get the food
And gather the rubbish that needs to go out)

I am losing my footing on the slippery rocks.
The dragon flashes his eyes with desire
I have to succeed, cannot be overpowered,
I call on the rain to quench his fire

(“Always off in imagination,
What’s wrong with you?
You spend hours on that
And it’s not even true’’)

I answer the final riddle, the dragon steps aside.
My way no longer barred, I struggle on up the mountain.
The tower reaches up to the clouds
Eagles circle above, come to help me in my troubles

(“I know you have talent?
Why don’t you use it?’’
“I work too!’’ i say
“You could work more!’’ says she)

The eagle carries me up to the princess, we hover.
She reaches out to me. I swing her onto the eagles back.
My arm circles her waist, her hair flies in my face.
She leans back on me in relief.

(“You always were some other place,
Even as a child. No different now than ever.
Why can’t you just be normal,
And stay in reality?’’)

We circle together above the now sunlit valleys
Looking down from above, we avoid all the cities and castles
And land in a summer meadow by a softly singing stream
She adorns herself with flowers, I dream