Incense
***
The art of freedom
is all about letting go.
Become your soul. Be.
***
***
The art of freedom
is all about letting go.
Become your soul. Be.
***
***
Follow the breeze of life
let it take you where it will
for within the sands of hope
there is a new shore.
A place to breathe
to feel
to be free.
A place to believe in.
***
Those clouds
heavy with rain
resembling pain
sit up there
and just, utter their contempt
as they shuffle along
manifesting
while down here
pain resembles snow
with its weight
pushing, tugging; silencing life
crushing butterflies
till they themselves
become misty rainbows
when the sun breaks through
to understand
to be aware
to acknowledge
clouds
those blankets
of peacefulness and violence
we reach beyond
to that shroud
whence we came
perhaps to understand freedom
perhaps to be aware of love
perhaps to acknowledge our failures
And there are those clouds
gone in a whisper
in the time it takes to write a poem
Watching the rain
attacking your windows
you see it run; racing dribbles
wasted energy
liquid rope twisting, turning
trying to find a way in
You don’t notice it
fulfil its purpose
of distracting you
from your sorrow
your memories
your future
you don’t remember
anymore
you are flanked
as the rain seeps
into your skin
your blood
your thoughts
until
you see the rainbow
and like a sponge
you release it all
to become
weightless
free
immaculate
I can smell the earth
after the rain
I can sense its delight
its forgiveness
and its compassion
I can feel a slight chill
after the rain
a breath
a breathing of textured sighs
a whispered kiss
I can smell the grass, the flowers; life
after the rain
I can imagine the gentle hiss, of the escape
its joy of knowing birth
and the freedom of release
I can smell and see the earth
during the rain
petals sodden
joyful, joyful, dancing
and her song of life
smells so good
such a thing
haunting and beautiful
ghosts of sound
you could call them echoes
ancient rumblings
sensuous vibrations
lost, feelings
such a thing
is there such a thing?
Could we catch the echo
seal it in jade
and hang it in the window
the sun would ask the rain for its tears
for it can only cry fire
the moon would ask the sun for its warmth
for it wants to give more
and the stars and the darkness would ask time
for an atom of its eternity to give the echo more life
for without freedom there is nothing
nothing but a rose in the shadows
haunting and beautiful
fragile