Friday, 8 February 2019

Perfection is here

The elegance of a simple, kind gesture
a hand offered
in help
in peace
in comfort

a smile
lighting the spark of
wakefulness within
a reminder of interbeing
interconnection between these
seemingly disparate souls

resolute optimism in a sea
of dread and fear
the certainty that in the end
all will be resolved
not as we wish
not how we imagine
but absolutely perfectly

because perfection is here
right now
in this and every moment
flooding your room
seeping out of crevices
pouring over each stone and
stumbling block.

“there is not room for death”*
each breath
the kiss of life
to a dark, despairing soul
each smile
a soothing balm
to a fearful thought.

Look into my eyes
there is no fear
only joy

When eyes meet
when hands touch
when souls converse
each is a confirmation
that doubt, fear, imperfection
do not exist
yet only in our minds
only in our negative
problem-seeking minds

Perfection exists
abounds.
Sometimes we call it
love
certainty
happiness
contentment

It is the essence
in which we
swim
move
dream
live
breathe
exist.

It is all there is.

© 6 Feb 19

* Emily Bronte

Wednesday, 6 February 2019

I invite you to stop

Bring to me
the troubled, the weary, the anxious
the ones burdened by
the relentless stream of thoughts
the ones seeking quiet and calm
the ones seeking space and relief
from the whirligig of imaginings.

Bring to me
the ones who wake
in the night, troubled and afraid
the ones from whom the sweet peace
of sleep eludes them
the ones seeking respite from
an overactive brain
presenting difficulties at every turn.

Bring to me
the nervous, the tongue-tied
the heart-broken, the dispirited
the ones for whom life
is a heavy weight, not a joy.
Leave your troubles at the door
along with the jumble of shoes
the heap of coats.

I will invite the bell
I invite you to listen
to attend to your own breath
each live and transient breath
flowing like soft waves on a quiet ocean.

I invite you to stop
to sit awhile
we do not need to say
or do anything.

Listen

to your own breath
to your own heart
and feel peace return to your soul
return to its resting place
in each fibre of your being.

© 6 Feb 19

Monday, 4 February 2019

Who are you?

Who built this house?
Who farmed this land
before the house was built?
Who planted trees
that now burn as logs in our grate?
Who first realised wool and cotton
could be woven into fabric
to make the clothes I wear?
Who discovered paint for these walls?
paper for these books?
Who first sang in harmony
before notes were ever notated?
Who first woke and saw life
as a wondrous true reality
of beings manifesting as love
compassion and kindness?
Who caused my eyes and heart to open
to hear life singing
in every leaf and petal?

Who are you?
My ancestors all.

Who are you
calling down the ages
outside of space and time?
Who are you
shimmering with stars
and the singing planets?
Who are you
energy that keeps
it all in motion?

Who are you?
My ancestors all.

Be with me
clothe me
feed my dreams
sharpen my insights
keep me in wakefulness.

© 3 Feb 19

Friday, 1 February 2019

Held in hoar frost

The world held in a
frosted
suspended animation
everything held on
a pause button
glittering
shimmering
dreamlike
touched by
the ice-queen’s cloak.

Winter has finally arrived
painting leaves
grass
trees
with a delicate whiteness.

dangerous beauty


the garden is awash
with wonder
each tendril
leaf
petal
decorated with a
mass of ice crystals
a hoar frost.

The spider’s web
hangs weighted
attracting a different
kind of feast.

Winter has finally arrived.

© 31 Jan 19




Tuesday, 29 January 2019

True home and refuge

What is a true home?
A place of safety, a refuge
relax and be myself
full of comfort and ease
familiar
breathe out and let go
a place indestructible and
therefore, not physical
a place to return to at any moment
full of great beauty
pleasing to ear and eye.

I have spent many years
searching for an external
physical abode
that does not exist
not yet recognising
 my true home within.

Always present
a refuge dwelling in the heartspace
open and receptive
for those tuned to hear.

My refuge is meditation
being quietly myself
closing out
external sounds and distractions
coming back to myself
as an entire, perfect whole
no needs or desires
nothing lacking or missing.

The refuge of myself is immanent
present
full of presence
joyous
precious
maintained through diligent attention.

A true acknowledgement of
‘the peace that passeth all understanding’
an eternal reality
unchanging, undiminished
calm and quiet
an abode of love
full of qualities
peace
consideration
kindness
compassion
generosity
love.

© 28 Jan 19

Wednesday, 16 January 2019

What is life

What is life
except
a dance
to be danced without
learning the steps.

a song
to be sung without
knowing the words.

a path
to be trod without
seeing the way.

a breath
to be breathed without
knowing from whence it came.

a love
to be loved without
any expectation.

an impulse
to be followed without
claiming it as mine.

a joy
to be exalted without
any reservation.

© 13 Jan 19

Monday, 14 January 2019

Death befalls us

Witness grief
resolutely clinging
to a hopeless belief
of immortality.

Witness grief
determinedly searching in shadows
constantly missing the light.

Deathlessness
does not dwell here
among life
find it in the realms of
angels and spirits
circumnavigating this orb.

Witness grief
hopelessly claiming
‘this is mine’
unable to let go.

Deathlessness
does not dwell here
among the changing
seek it in the unchanging
the heart-beat
pulse of energy
singing through silence
sounding through visions
surrounding our everyday life
as a cloak
invisible to the naked eye
known only by the soul.

Witness the ease
with which
death befalls us
as simply as the falling
of a wave that arose
a natural conclusion.

Witness death
as the closing of a door
the turning of a key
never to be unturned.

The only way is onward.

© 13 Jan 19