This Life

While the days become short

And the nights much longer,

And my mind digs deeper

And stirs up the mud –

And then clouds my dreams.

.

In fitful sleep I’m troubled

And filled with self doubt,

And clinging to straws

And words of kind friends –

And trying to focus on good.

.

When dawn fills my eyes

And once again I am calm,

And family stands beside me

And reminds me of fine times –

And the kindnesses we’ve shared.

.

I fill my lungs with fresh air

And my heart with their love,

And my mind with sound knowledge

And my hands with hard work –

And go on rejoicing this life.

The Potters Gift

 

Spheres to hold water
Straight lines to divide
Curves to seduce
Oblongs to decant
Rectangles to bake
Half circles to serve
Triangles to drink from
And squares from which to eat.
Colours to beguile;
And for further purposes –
Gold to capture the eye
Blue to cool the mild
Green to refresh
Brown to give thanks
To the earth
From whence they came,
To scream of the talent
Of the ancient potter.
To enchant us today
In this world of plastic
And disposable products.

Another Day

 I met a man upon the beach
 One steamy summer morn'.
 He was quiet and calm,
 And as we stood and watched -
 Another day was born.


 As the first rays touch our chests
 I turned to look at him once more.
 His hair was long,
 His feet were bare,
 His robes were wet and worn.


 He turned to me a gaze that pierced,
 Then filled me with content.
 His eyes were deep
 His face was calm
 His soul was on display.


 He invited me to share repast
 We sat and watched the rising sun -
 And ate his fish
 And ate his bread
 And drank no finer brew.


 Conversation flowed with ease
 As if brought upon the gentle breeze
 We spoke of things
 That summer dawn
 Which calmed my jagged mind.


 I walk that beach now ev'ry day
 And feel the same sweet peace -
 As nature flows
 And the ocean sighs
 And seabirds eulogise.

And then…

(Pic by Amanda – accidental photographer, scientist, friend)

.

.

Without warning –

Freedom.

It comes upon me now and then

And once again I am inspired.

Can it be true that this is mine…

… All of this, to do with,

As I please?

Without warning –

I realise.

That my actions are not just my own

And someone else feels the ripple,

Of my discarded truth, or

Half hearted attempt –

To make it right.

Without warning –

Life.

I want it like my morning coffee –

With sugar.

I want it with a crust –

Like humble pie.

I want it with the occasional static.

Without warning –

It’s gone.

And I never said I’m sorry –

To that guy at the grocery store,

Or that woman in the picture theatre.

To that dog I didn’t pat.

To those friends that never gave up –

On me.

Destination

(Picture by Zoe – photographer, traveller, scientist, friend)

 

ancient sunlight shows

sacred mountains radiance

my heart again fills

Sieve (haiku)

 

joyfully I stretch

arms wide to catch the sunrise

dark mind disappears

Mind Your Step

Be mindful where your bare feet fall,

Fear not the proclaimed poppy tall,

Listen not to any demon's call,

Try not to drop the fragile ball.




Treat others with a heart that's kind,

Remember it's your own free mind,

Don't be strayed, nor unforgivingly blind,

Leave not your conscience far behind.




Stand strong and mighty as the elm,

Ever mindful that you have the helm,

Try not to be too overwhelmed,

Many hands will help you in this realm.




Tread ever lightly in our plane,

Push not against this earthly grain,

Cause not you heart unpleasant strain,

And upon your path you shall remain.