Ripples

What if everything flowed, streaming, from deep reaching roots we all know. Flowed from knowing that each teeming life is precious, knitted to each other, belonging, delicately patterned spider webbed.

Would we then listen to each other’s
tumbling stories reverently?
Would wars evaporate,
becoming meaningless madness?
Would we all wake from
the toxic screen slumber,
eyes and arms wide to the wonder?

I know it is a glittering panacea.
We live in creeping darkness,
chasmous splits sparking.
But we can still try,
stumble and try.
We can create tremulous ripples,
ripples of love and life. 

Presence

Your absence is ever presence, like the moon gazing down palely or the sun bright in the blue sky.

It’s not a screaming absence,
thrashing, blood pouring.

It’s a thrumming, gentle,
a heartbeat, quietly constant.
Your absence is ever presence. 

Your Ring

These physical objects in glass cases, infused with historical wonder.
Do they hold a strange power?
A vibrating meaning in themselves?
Or are they just an empty symbol?

We come and go, transient, flickering,
floating away in dust and stars.

These objects tether,
bonds speaking from those who are gone.
Do their spirits whisper?

Your ring around my neck
travelled with you most of your life.
It blazed with love and community.
It was there before me,
in your young hopeful life,
whispering faithfulness, commitment, a building of a life.

There is just emptiness.
You are dust and stars
while the ring endures.

What you gave, your blazing essence,
does it live on eternal too?

Homes

I am not a wanderer or voyager, seeking endless new. I seek roots, a home, nourishing and wrapping.

My home now is the city
of my ancestors' streets and houses, ashes and bones.
Here I have knit a life, nesting,
deepening, cords binding.

But I still think of my first home,
the city where there’s always something to do,
where the world comes to us,
where every community gathers.
It blazes and sings in me,
aligned inside me,
in a way that no other place ever will.

Wave

There is a dead, poisonous darkness, a hopelessness and loneliness,  that envelops so many. We are grappling with sickness and loss or a spiking, ripping hurt from those who were closest.

We are in the wilderness, trying our best, slipping.
The poison can be passed on, seeping,
spilling out around us,
if we don’t look, wide eyed open, questioning,
if we don’t reckon with it.

And surrounding us are pompous men
thrashing, trashing, squashing,
revelling in dark dead greed and power.

They are unable to see and hold the fragility,
totally blind to the eternal preciousness and light
of every living thing,
of every person striving to be free,
to be fully everything they are called to be.

What to do in this knotted, swirling darkness?
What to do to not drown and choke?

What if we passionately
love, love, love?
What if we listen to others dancing and weaving stories,
to their truths tentatively given?
And dare to share our deep truth stories too?
Together, can it transform and awaken us?

It can be enough, it is the only thing we have,
a wave of truthful light,
pushing back and bathing the dead darkness.

Your Gift

You came from small places, narrow and grey, escaping the confines. You came to an expanse, a rainbow, a wide open sky.

You built a community around you.
We were exposed, nurtured;
learning that all people are unique,
all people are special,
everyone is sacred.

You gave me this, this great gift.
I was blessed with deep golden roots stretching,
transforming,
so that it is easy for me to see the precious rainbow.

I have a duty to pass it on, enduring,
to pass that rainbow light on.

New Year Intentions

A new year and the morning frost sparkles as the orange sun rises and the sky glows blue.

This year
I want more like this,
morning walks,
walks of beauty, eyes open,
changing seasons, soaking in,
awe bubbling.

This year
I want moments of connecting souls,
joy and laughter overflowing, brimming,
unfolding,
seeping into my bones.

This year
I want a flourishing, pen flying,
words tumbling out,
being born, being heard,
tended to, brightening
to its full self.