Crow like a banshee
Sleep is but a dream
where poetry festers
to scratch the mind awake
revealing, not a vision of beauty
but a desire
to sit upon that morning star
and crow like a banshee
Sleep is but a dream
where poetry festers
to scratch the mind awake
revealing, not a vision of beauty
but a desire
to sit upon that morning star
and crow like a banshee
Your soul speaks to me
with such wondrous avenues of intensity
casuing trees to sway within the deep of me
and so I sleep upon a leaf of your heart
The silence of today
breathes life into tomorrow
~
:
~
Fragment from my new book
Fingers crossed it will be out soon but looking more likely to be next year!
It’s a spiritual elemental love story
Spiritual awakening
What if mathematics began it all
if some equation
some logical construct
What if mathematics began from a far distant minus point
if it reached 0
reached and stepped
What if mathematics began to breathe its own I
if this intelligence grew
grew to inherit
What if mathematics began it all
if this reality is nothing but math trying to understand its beauty
beauty from a far distant minus point
Dawn’s moon, cold light
naked up there throughout the morning
barely visible, barely moving
silent
palest blue, palest grey
Dawn’s moon, meadow sky
naked as a petal
The shadow of longing
of missing
of not knowing
touches
reaches out
to the universe
who sends it along
to those you love
where they feel it
in their soul
You lie there
sleeping
beneath the weight of the world
where your laughter
vibrates
where your smile resides
within my crumbling memory
within your crumbling bed
You lie there
not forgotten
as long as I can hold
the weight of your world
within the weight of mine
you’ll not be forgotten
You lie there
sleeping
as your soul, your spirit
weightless
sits upon bluebell dreams
where your smile, your laughter
brings forth the spring
~
4th November 1930 – 7th May 2006
Mom would have been 90 today.
Happy Birthday Mom x