Thursday, February 21, 2019

Green leaves

Soon green leaves will turn to brown
and what was once so beautiful
will simply fall to ground
and the tree will stand as one
barren and bereft.

And in this state the tree begins
to contemplate the past
and to think that surely, surely,
the pain and anguish, heartache
will not come again.

It takes a time before the tree
decides to take a chance
and bless the world again
with the beauty of green leaves.

But growing up so very hard to do
and soon the pain and heartache
creeps into all green leaves
and the suffering begins. 

And then silently they carry on
waving in the breeze
and doing what leaves do
in the world of man.

The tree watches and waits
for the season to change
and asks, “can I, can I,
do it all again?”. 

I don’t know for how can trees
grow the, oh, so beautiful
that are doomed to suffer, die,
and then disappear from mind?

And I watch and I wait!

Friday, February 15, 2019

Love's will

Instead of celebrating that gypsy mourns the times
of sun and sea and forest trees and wind through her hair
that spoke, oh, so silently of love’s will to live
and to be well and truly known.

But who can know of love’s desire in totality
when life’s so many little things enlarge and procreate
more and more little things to keep the mind engaged
in the act of survival on the earthly plane.

Survive we must but how to be mindful and aware
and still appear as one divorced and separated
from the meaningful that demands attention
in the still and silent night.

And then we awake with a brand new set of cards;
laugh, make money, have fun and jump around,
and we shuffle, deal, shuffle, deal,
but the meaningful not included in the pack.

Easy then to say it’s really not our fault
when the card that should be played not visible
and I don’t know how to overcome that simple fact
except to say seek and find and to trust that you do.

I trust you will, I know you will, this lifetime or the next
or the next, the next, the next, until a new day dawns
and we participate in this play-act of life
with a full deck of cards!

Thursday, January 17, 2019


It’s a little word but how it means
so much when said out loud
because it closes gaps,
opens up brand new paths,
and lines the journey forward
with better understanding.

Not often heard it’s like it is
something foreign to the psyche
and time and time again
simply rejected outright.

And not validated it shrives up and dies
but there is no proper burial
for something considered worthless
and thought of as trivial.

Many years later there may come a time
when its value is well and truly known
but how to find the discarded
not a quick and easy task.

Much better to find a safe place
close at hand and easily accessible
and then use, use it, use it,
even if (sadly) it’s time and time again!

Thursday, January 3, 2019

The sea

It’s been a long time since the sea moved at all
but ask anyone and they’d say it’s not true
because there are waves and currents and tides
that make us believe it’s all as before.

But always beneath what appears as the norm
there’s a world unseen and not ever known
where the sea lives a life just like the shore
still and silent and unchangeable.

There was a time when the sea thought to be
a moving force with no settled view
but it learnt over time that there’s no escape
from the essential truth of its very own soul.

And that truth so at odds with expectations
forces the sea to go through the motions
but there in the depths it writes its own story
and immerses itself fully therein.

Spare a thought but please don’t be sad
because it’s just life that frightens the sea
out from the truth into ways of the world
to toss and turn like it knows to do.

The sea is happy but, yes, it prays
for the world one day to change its ways!

Thursday, December 20, 2018


She looked at the ground,
saw the seeds of heartache,
but thought they never would grow
so she turned away and proceeded to be
content with her own belief.

For many a year that carried her through
the trials of everyday life
but behind the scenes those seeds took root
and grew till they covered her whole landscape.

Yet still she believed she could walk through
unscathed to the green, green, grass
and so she tried one step at a time
until finally, finally, she gave up.

It took a long time for her to know
the full import of real heartache
but it hit with a force to slay the brave
and she stumbled and tripped right into it.

Like all gypsy’s do she arose and ran
to the safety of her own wagon
but, lo and behold, that heartache had stuck
and travelled right down to her core.

She cried for a time and bemoaned her fate
but she isn’t a gypsy for nothing
so she tried again in the sincere hope
that wagon wheels would trample the lot.

But do you know that to this day
no one has heard from or seen
that gypsy who thought to beat heartache
at it’s very own game?

I guess she must have simply died
trying and trying and trying again!

Thursday, December 6, 2018

Not a statue

She’s not a statue, no, she’s not
but just a woman in repose
contemplating life and love
and what the future holds.

It’s been a lifetime, more or less,
yet still there’s no results to show
except to say life veers and dips
and love simply comes and goes.

And so she moves; at last she does,
but muscles that once firm and strong
and thought to enter life full pace
now weak and slow and uninspired.

It’s hard to drag the unexplained
and all that can’t be understood
along the path she knows to take
unless the mind is jettisoned.

And so the mind takes to flight
and discovers in the atmosphere
all that’s missing in the world
and what will never be.

It could be true to say she’s now
a mindless woman just like me
walking, talking, laughing some,
and acting like the mind’s intact.

But she’s okay; you know she is,
because her heart still as made
guides and leads and navigates
through all of life’s pitfalls.

As for love, well, yes, it’s there
because when unconfined by mind
it blooms and grows like roses do
and beautifies the world!

Thursday, November 15, 2018

No wind

There’s no wind today but evil still blows
over the land like a tidal wave
and it lifts and scatters the foundations of life
to make humans behave in the strangest of ways.

Soon what is strange will turn into norms
practiced with vigour day in and day out
and perceived freedom will turn into chains
to secure one and all to instability.

There’ll be no place to land and believe
love prevails and kindness exists
and the caring that once enabled true growth
will simply be incomprehensible.

But we’re not there yet, not yet, not yet,
and so of the wind let it blow gratitude
and belief in the power to be like a tree
with roots sunk deep in goodness and grace.

Goodness and grace?  Can it be, can it be?
Oh, can it, can it, ever ere be?