Tangled Iron

The cord on our iron is tangled, twisted, knotted. When I iron I’m yanking, choked.

One morning, at the beginning of my week off,
with time stretching ahead, unconstrained,
I do yoga for my nagging shoulder pain,
then slowly untangle the knotted iron cord,
untwisting the opposite twisted way,
releasing.
Afterwards I iron easy -
gliding
with freedom. 

Red Chair

You say you have the only red chair in the dining hall. Everyone knows it’s Moses’ chair. You say, bemused, “some people just want to be normal”. I love it that you don’t want to be ‘normal’, that you blaze a singular path shining, that you insist on having the only red chair in the dining hall.

Real Treasure

I feel I’ve found the pearl of great price, the treasure hidden deep in the earth.

It is in a life lived in authentic connection,
soul bare-ing, eyes open, realness.

It is in so many safe, knitted spaces,
webbed and woven, fraying.

It is where we share our cracks, our aching sores,
our eyes, words, in solid ground, in ringing truth.

I’ve found the pearl of great price,
the treasure hidden deep in the earth. 

Stones

In this place creativity is bursting colour from the walls free, it doesn’t care if we think it’s good.

My neck is taut,
my shoulders aching and heavy,
the dark stones thud in the pit of my stomach.

Can I let them roll out my feet,
bouncing, laughing, along
a trickling, dancing, river
free.