Past-love archive

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“I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesteryears are buried deep, leave it any way except a slow way, leave it the fastest way you can. Never turn back and never believe that an hour you remember is a better hour because it is dead. Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones, while the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance.”
― Beryl Markham, West with the Night

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“Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.”
― Kahlil Gibran

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“We’re going all the way ’til the wheels fall off and burn.”
― Bob Dylan

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“You made me happy and you made me laugh, and if I could do it all over again, I would not hesitate. Look at our life, at the trips we took, the adventures we had. As your father used to say, we shared the longest ride together, this thing called life, and mine has been filled with joy because of you.”
― Nicholas Sparks, The Longest Ride

Shallow mirror

Posted on December 1, 2016 by aperture

Reflecting heaven’s light

captured by stillness in breath

obscuring the shallow beneath

stones settle buried at rest

reflecting

Restoration

Posted on September 25, 2016 by aperture

It’s the things that aren’t said that hurt the most.

I can hear the tower clock chime from my pillow

It is the only constant I hear.

But even this clock;

I envy the care and attention

it receives for its restoration.

I hope to have its constancy at heart.

Spiritus Sanctus:

‘O Holy Spirit, as the sun is full of light, the ocean full of water,

Heaven full of glory, so may my heart be full of thee.’

– The Valley of Vision

Timbre of the Heart

Posted on April 26, 2016 by aperture

A rare bird indeed

we are exotic, an ancient lineage

migrated south.

We are two much, one to know another

protect, preserve our own our offspring,

territorial ties that wound

What we love, what is it?

The glorious plumage?

A splendour to behold

The sound of our call, cool, titillating talk?

are but echoes in the sky.

No, much more than that.

The most glorious sound to adore

is the heart beating in our chests

Listen, my friend, keenly –

look with those two deep oceans you keep.

See – every word, move, motion,

every flash in the eye, affection

reveals the timbre of the heart.

The Year of the Nottingham

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The lights confuse us in the night

Tracking right to left and left to right

Steady beacon constant on the bow

Torch flashing sail; waves on metal plough

All eyes front, gazing at the steady stream

Of fishermen, leisure yachts passing near abeam

Pitch black warrior of steel, cruising twenty knots

Through a minefield of coral reef and sandy spots

In the dead of night watch, that steady light ahead

Lost our nerve, our confidence, woke captain from his bed

Stop all engines, reassess, ignore the fuming Nav

No saving face, or gold of rank, sleeping sailors we have

Keep them safe, secure in racks dreaming of their home

On the bridge the young watchkeeper has eyes like radar dome

It was the year I did execute the perfect come ’round

Aft of the Nottingham, the day before it ran aground

Dearest Hope

Posted on January 1, 2016 by aperture

I hope…

keep yourself from feeling

resentment at my leaving you

here, my dearest.

It is joyous to depart,

do not let sadness taint

the inevitable start

to a “new” day.

Do not hold it against Him,

let comfort cover you

and soften the impact

you feel after free-fall.

It will save you, bruised not broken.

I am nothing but

a haunted house

occupied by a Ghost

that keeps all others out.

I fear it not, for it dispels all fears

– the hate and the fight –

it lets in the light through darkened shutters,

breaks down inhabitable disguise.

I stare into your face

no mask, of self – a trace,

an empty broken shell

awaiting to be whole

and filled with life anew.

No cold, hard, barren ground,

broken fossils incomplete

no slowly sinking mound

weathered turf, carved concrete,

chiselled words standing proud.

Within one heart rests humanity, whole –

my only other hope is you are there

once you too, are grown and old.

Add. 43490 f.23

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Clearest Blue by CHVRCHES

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Clearest Blue

Clearest Blue on Spotify

True life

Posted on December 9, 2015 by aperture

“Have we not all, amid life’s petty strife,
Some pure ideal of a noble life
That once seemed possible? Did we not hear
The flutter of its wings and feel it near,
And just within our reach? It was. And yet
We lost it in this daily jar and fret,
And now live idle in vain regret;
But still our place is kept, and it will wait,
Ready for us to fill it, soon or late.
No star is ever lost we once have seen,
We always may be what we might have been.
Since good, tho’ only thought, has life and breath,
God’s life – can always be redeemed from death;
And evil, in its nature, is decay,
And any hour can blot it all away;
The hopes that, lost, in some far distance seem,
May be the truer life, and this the dream.”