I’m sorry
for the harsh feeling
I harboured
against you
only those
who mean so much
are capable of causing
so much grief.
I wish you
Rest & Peace.
Image source: Sunderland Echo
Rest & Peace
2
Tag Archives: Poetry
Inspired by Cicero
We fight fiercely
We sacrifice earnestly
But never surrender
For our friends
Amicitiae nostrae memoriam spero sempiternam fore – Cicero
“I hope that the memory of our friendship will be everlasting.”
Parle Amour, Mon Protégé
Mother hen, sibling, friend
Her eyes light up each morning
at little mouths yawning
They look for her, seek her out
She dries their tears, wipes their mouth
A tender big heart resides in slender body
Delights in her sister’s song
Her brother’s clumsy sentence long
Never alone, day or night
They all fill up the pew
They wrestle and yell, argue and fight
Longing as soon one departs the room
Their blood lines run deep, our kinship are few
Big brothers and lovers are all I knew
I myself, born too late
Still such love I can relate
Kindred spirit born anew.
Dis-array
Image
dark matter gravitates
Towards our centre
Words swirl in disarray
Endlessly meditate
Fullness of weight
She doesn’t need you
He doesn’t want to see you
She doesn’t care
He has no time to spare
She has other friends
He says you’re full on
She thinks you’re just wrong
His other lover returned
Words heard but spurned
Silence consumes like a black hole.
Explode.
Then stars are flung endlessly
Like the force of creation
At the sound of those words
I care
You are there.
Streams ne’er ceasing
Image
Come cling to me like mist scented trees
Thou scattered droplets absorbed, restored
Fount o’er leaf tips to forest floor
Endlessly nourished ‘fore scorching breeze
Pre-loved. Re-purposed.
Fleeting, fragile / Hand made clay / vessel overflowing / temporal decay
I’ve laid bare all the fault lines
The cracks in the glaze
Dents of time, shards re-assembled
Re-fired, hand painted and saved.
From far away each seems whole
The fault lines form
An intricate filagree pattern
As if from an Artists’ hand.
Closer seen weakness revealed
No longer a pedastal piece in museum
A working vessel, much used and loved
Content seeps out slowly, replenished from above.
Raku pottery image source
We are often asked if we can refire a broken pot or a statue and make it “perfect” again. A potter simply cannot refire a pot and make it whole again. (Source)
Wellspring
Image
Our lives are like a bottomless well
From which I yield buckets of
Inspiration.
I would never utter an unkind word
For fear of poisoning the source
My only hope is that I give
As much in return
Or at least not run it dry
For if I did
I would humbly say
Goodbye.
– that woman
Image source – Hamilton Springs Texas
Coal River Valley
cold dark hard stone / compressed ages / crazy love / diamond shine.
Piled dry parched / under barren sky / delinquint spark rests / beside ignite.
Illuminable reside / rest surrender / hide.
Fuel pile high / heavy dry / coerce embers / elated fly.
Buried ash Wednesday / live breathe / fanned funneled / exalted hearth high.
Relentless Westerly / battered antique bones / breathe weary / rugged stone hill.
Shines its testament / from stain glass sill / to living room throne / cast iron will.
Αββα
Whatever you want me to do or say, I will do it… just say the Word.
בת daughter
Sky-gazing
Image
“… here is one day from his life, a day in every respect like all his other days, and from it let the reader form his own opinion as to his character and the way in which his life corresponded with the beauty of his environment.”
– Nikolai Gogol, Dead Souls.
Picture of St Luke’s Anglican cemetary overlooking Richmond Village, Tasmania.
Count the stars of heaven 