When her silence speaks

When her silence speaks

the rush of
breath
soul
leaf chimes
mulch growth
bark banter
her, mellifluousness

When her silence speaks

lissom creatures begin
their rites
for early morning
awakens the spirit
her spirit

When her silence speaks

nature’s monks
renew the air
spatial awareness

When her silence speaks …

trust begins

Rainwater

With each step
we write our lives
with quills dipped in rainwater
for as soon as it is written
it fades under the glare of happiness
or is washed away by storms of solitude

The mere act of dipping
is enough to send ripples along to the roots of Gaia’s smile
where she drinks in the questions of us mortal masterpieces
for as soon as it is written
our souls, our spirits, our hearts and our minds become
lost in the frustrations of being unable to comprehend
the reasons why we are given such beauty
only for it to be washed away

The act of being kind to the rains as they fall
brings its own rewards
for when we write our lives
with quills of love
we shall be given
in return
the truth of how to live in the now moments
of how to flow over storm-crusted stepping stones of haste
and of how to write with rainwater
and know there are no answers except for those we create

When we write with rainwater
the sun shines
and the storms rage
as we breathe
know and feel
the beauty of existence

~

Another poem from before that seems to resonate with the way things are going nowadays.

From 2017 published in After the Rain.

always time to breathe

of continuance

of course there is always time
always time to breathe
even if that breathing is tight
tingly and cold

and that’s when it hits me

I’m watching the rain
listening to the patterings
seeing the grey morning clouds stir
hearing the moans of a thousand souls in the wind
feeling the silence of her tears

of her tears
longing to evaporate into joy
but on this cold cold day
she can do nothing but cry

and I can do nothing
but think of continuance
and climbing that hill
hoping I can still breathe when I reach the top

of course there is always time
to breathe
and if not her tears will fall
to evporate into joy
and I shall join the wind chorus

although you won’t like my song.

Coincidence, or Nature at Her Best?

For a while now I’ve had some health problems and a couple of weeks ago I was prescribed medication to help.

Now I’m not after any sympathy or ought like that as I don’t generally talk about stuff like this but I just wanted give the reason for this post and introduce the power of nature to listen to us and reply in her own way.

As far as I could tell the medication helped but came with headaches of the ridiculous kind. 12 hours a day for 7 days and it said they go away after a week or two. On the 7th day I could take the pain no longer as each day seemed worse than the previous and on that day I was in tears. I just could not move without the pain cutting me short and making me quite dizzy and unstable. Needless to say I am no longer on that medication and am now all good except of course the aforesaid health problems which should be sorted in a month or two.

*

I always talk to my house plants, I have a nice Weeping Fig; Ficus benjamina and a lovely Dragon plant; Dracaena marginata and quite a few Peace Lilies; Spathiphyllum.

On the 6th day of the pain I could barely move without my head feeling like it was being attacked with even more hot stabbing pokers or needles. My body was getting stressed and I gradually became quite hot. I didn’t know what to do as pain killers just bounced off the pain even the ones the doctors prescribed.

So I put my faith in Nature and my plants because a while back I read that plants are aware of our thoughts (Caretakers of the Cosmas by Gary Lachman and Secret Life of Plants by Peter Tompkins & Christopher Bird).

The sky was clear and blue without a cloud and the weather unseasonably warm. As I said I was getting stressed and rather hot so I sat in front of the Dragon plant and with both hands wrapped around its trunk I asked for help. I just sat and asked and asked. I sat there for about 30 minutes or so and then all of a sudden the sky changed and for about the next ten minutes it hailed! Lots of nice cold hail stones fell and my room temperature dropped. It was just perfect. I stood and watched it and as I cooled and relaxed I smiled and thanked her.

My headache was still as painful but I was much cooler and more relaxed.

Nature at her best?

I’ll let you decide, but for me the universe, she, came to my rescue.

her song of life

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

the harmony of nature

to see nature
in tune with herself

to hear those vibrations of her harmony
of her unconditional love

to know the fragility of her power
and the power of her fragility

to understand her violence
isn’t an act of thuggery, but growth, continuance, life

to become a part of her, of her passion
we have so much more to do, to undo, to become

to step out upon a path and to touch her tendrils
and to have them touch us with one of those, vibrations

to realise she doesn’t have a goal, a tactic, a gaol
for she is her own graveyard, where each and everything reincarnates

she is; it’s that simple
we; we have yet to begin to know the meaning of silence