Nature.

Deliver to us

Down the slippery slope

Of dreams and imaginings

Left to the winds above

Do we stay on a path

Unknown to us all

Do fly in the face

Often denied

Lift off our feet

To float in the air

Beyond what we thought

Beyond what we dare

No hate

No money

No war

No revenge

Just bliss and love

Until we wake from the dream.

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Dreaming of waking.

spin in circles

a dance made for two

dizzying vertigo

stop and sway to and fro

imaginary symbols

of distance far away

squint too hard and

get a headache in the grey

all colours wash

from our pretty clothes

like drip dried petals

flying as the wind blows

spin faster to live

intoxicated by nonsense

breathing gets harder

the world seems more dense

fall down in laughter

let your back feel the dirt

breath in once more quickly

insanity’s such a flirt.

 

 

A Canopy of Stars

She woke under a canopy of stars, each one blinking with as much surprise as she. Her hand touched the soft grass beneath her, a breeze caressed her face as it raced across the meadow. She sat up letting her eyes adjust to the dark. The moon was full and the sky clear. She was in a meadow surrounded by trees. It was as if mother nature had built a castle just for her. She heard some rustling now and then as small rabbits or frightened mice moved through the grass.

She looked down at herself and could barely make out a floral house coat. Not a robe but something more substantial. Her hair was dark in the moonlight and her hands seemed so much younger than she remembered. A noise across the meadow made her look up and a large stag broke through the treeline. He was huge and muscular. His crown of bone as long as he was tall. He was magnificent and she felt a tear roll down her cheek.
She stood up slowly. She didn’t want to spook the grand king of this wood. As she did the King moved toward her. He raced quickly from the wood to her in seconds, stopping five feet from her. She saw into his black eyes. They seemed as clear as the purest crystal. She kept still slowly reaching out her hand. To her surprise the King knelt before her and let her touch his proud nose. Her smile was a big as the swelling in her heart as she heard a soft voice somewhere far away.

In the white room the machines beeped and growled. Wires winding across the tiled floor to the single bed. Sitting on the bed was a young girl, no more than seven. She clutched onto a piece of paper that she held up to show the woman lying still beneath her.

“And see Nana. It’s so beautiful here and the King comes to say hi. He is a good King…so gentle. He will let you pat him and you won’t hurt anymore. I love you Nana.”

The girl lay back against the woman, still holding up the picture of a meadow, under stars, with the King standing proud.

What ifs…part one.

If there was a way

to open the doors of time

to shuffle across a dusty floor

kicking up the ashes of memory

turn back the lost days

the hurtful ways

all the cuts that scarred

all the things that marred

in that room of time

could i bring myself

to pull back the curtains

let light shine on the dark

and change my life…

 

 

Confession of Depression.

I remember back when the world was heavy. The days were so long, riddled with grief and pain. There was a loss, so deep that to fall into it meant falling forever and I fell. The mind raced within a crawl. I didn’t think pain could come from inside. I didn’t think it could hurt for so long. All I wanted was to get it out and I did,

A line of red, dripping down the arm was like watching a favourite movie. Each line seemed to let out the agony. Each cut closer and closer to the hairless wrist below. The mind imagines a sleep deep and dreamless. It imagines a peace that comes with nothing, with nonexistence. To be gone, so easy, like snapping the fingers. As horrible as it sounds, that thought could bring a smile.

Days and days of red lines and dreams of nothing. Waiting for the end, but never following through. That in itself showed a hope, no matter how small. As the scars healed a soul perhaps began to heal too. those close tried to be closer and i pushed them away. Humans are still a species alien to me, but then I just hated them all.

So what changed? My children not laughing at their silly father. My parents out living a son. My own up bringing, stupid Catholics, and in a strange way a human. The mysteries of life coming back to the fallen. The fall ending, not with a thump, but slowing enough to put both feet on the ground. I wear a mask of smiles from time to time, but that is how you fool the dark.

Confession of Depression.

 

 

The world.

When the world looks at me

Does it see hope

Or does it shake its  head

When the world holds out its hand

Do I reach back

Or roll over in my bed.

When rhe world is in trouble

Do run to its aid

Or hope someone else runs its way

When the world cries its salty tears

Do I comfort it with love

Or have nothing to say

When the world needs me

Do I stand in line

Or feel it’s too much

When the world needs my help

I hope I will be strong

And feel it’s gentle touch.

a man…once

Once upon a time

It is written in this rhyme

a man had more to be

though never did I see

Once upon a time

a man becomes a friend

no secrets in the end

just road that curved to bend

Once upon a time

the man became much more

a child opened that door

and a heart took wing to soar

Once upon a time

as its written in this rhyme

I sit on ages throne

a mile not lost or alone