Categories
Poetry

One

Hush, dear soul,

there is no need to question

the aching sorrows.

For they are there,

as is the joy;

two faithful companions

on the road to somewhere

and nowhere.

Oh, dear soul.

It is true there are questions

unanswered,

doors left unclosed.

Listen to the wind and you will see

there are no doors

truly

to close.

Only the ever drifting whispers

of impermanent life.

Always moving.

Never arriving.

My, dear soul.

Yes, we are weary.

Yes, we shall row into the sunset

as one.

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Categories
Life

The Beautiful Things

There are days when the wind blows my feelings in storms over the sea of life, and on these days my old friend fear rows back to me and makes himself known. Do you need me, he says, can I hold you a little longer, he says.

On those days, I am human. On those days I worry and I cry and I tense up, thinking I might have lost something precious that once held me perfectly. Thinking, oh no. What if my life tumbles into bits and pieces, again?

Then there are the moments that shine like a diamond struck directly by the suns brightest ray. Moments of Devine breath. Like the other day, for instance, in the garden. The silent whispers were there again, and not in some imaginative fairy world kind of way. In a very real feeling kind of way.

Somehow (and you all know by now that I am completely clueless as to the how and the why of these sorts of things) there was communication happening between my heart and the earth. The weeds for heaven sake, weeds I once would have gritted my teeth at and angrily resented. They were silently singing. I couldn’t help but love them dearly.

Have you ever looked into someones eyes and felt they were speaking to you without words? If you’ve been in love before, it’s certain that you have. This kind of energetic communication happens between man and nature, too, apparently, and I am the first to say how surprised I am about this glorious darling of a thing.

And it is glorious. My goodness, it is.

There is no human language to describe a Devine beauty such as mans union with nature, but I truly hope that if you’ve not yet known this depth of beauty in your life, you one day will.

If not, I have been here, giving you my words and my heart, hoping they have been enough.

No one should leave this planet without going to this lovely place within themselves.

And so it is I send my wish out for all the world to find their way.

And so it is I am grateful.

I have found heaven at home.

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Categories
Poetry

Anyone

I feel the truth

only because of the false.

A seeing

beyond the faces of clowns.

Play rolled in fear,

don’t you see

the squeaky carousel?

They feel the brittle bones

of life gone by

and bleed again,

but only if they see.

No.

They won’t see,

they don’t want to see.

Be anyone but the truth,

they whisper.

Be anyone

but me.

Categories
Poetry

Each New End

Life is a story I tell myself.

And I daren’t tell it wrong

for fear of the unhappy ending.

But what is unhappy?

And what is an ending

if a beginning is found

on the other side

of each new end?

Categories
Life

1946

He bought it in 1946 for six pounds, which apparently was quite the sum back in the day. He’s 92 and wonderful, my darling neighbour, Joe, I’ll call him. The gigantic relic of a dictionary was his. Now it belongs to me.

Joe and I lounged in his well kept living room and sipped champagne to celebrate my family’s one year anniversary of owning our home. He had remembered, not us. We were flawed with gratitude and awe.

As we sat, he told me stories of his life; the pains, the joys, stories of beautiful friends and loved ones here and gone. I could have sat there all afternoon. Instead I settled for an hour and a champagne, and two home-made yoyo biscuits (made by a dear friend of his, and absolutely delicious, might I add.)

The dictionary came up in conversation and I mentioned how I’d planned to buy a special one myself, some day. Brooke, the writer; of course she’d need to invest in something so truly lovely, full of all that writerly goodness. And just like that, the dictionary, the precious illustrated dictionary, had become apart of our family.

I will cherish it for as long as I live. Not because it’s the dictionary I’ve always wanted, but because it will remind me of a beautiful soul that has touched my life deeply.

As I sat with him I told him, ‘Joe. You have such a pure soul,’ and it’s true. I’ve never felt a person quite like him and I wish there were more people in the world who felt as beautiful, to me.

The purest of hearts. The ones that lift us to be our best. The ones we all hope we might be for others.

I plan to go for tea again with him soon, my darling friend, Joe.

I cannot think of how I might repay his kindness.

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Categories
Poetry

Messy Life

There is no need to be afraid of the

not good enough.

This weakness you perceive,

this pathetic softness you scold yourself for

compared to

she who declares herself strong.

Close your eyes.

Breathe and know this.

You are perfection

just the way you are.

For you must know this flimsy frailty

in order to recognise the goddess

who one day will rise within.

It must be.

For without this shadow

the towering goddess inside

would remain hidden to you.

Trust the journey.

Trust in the perfection

of messy life.

Categories
Poetry

Bravery

Bravery

is born

on the tender tears

of loss and disappointment.

Keep stepping.

You are so loved.

Categories
Poetry

Let Go

Let go.

For peace.

Categories
Poetry

Bright New Day

I send my heart

to those in pain.

Let me sit beside you in the dark.

Let me remind you:

darkness is the ship

to a bright new day.

Categories
Poetry

The Wind

The wind, I think,

is peace.

The breath of the earth.

The song of the trees.

And we will bathe in her softness,

today,

and every day.

The wind, I think,

rolls all days into one.

May she catch us

and show us

the truth in her song.