We saw the Milky Way

Standing on a Cumbrian hill
we saw the Milky Way

and it smiled down at us
and told us not to fear,
small, insignificant, human dots
with such grandiose schemes.

We saw the Milky Way
and it smiled down at us
and told us not to worry
because we are not as omnipotent
or dangerous as we think we are.

We saw the Milky Way
and it told us to be brave
and courageously tell our heartfelt stories,
including the dusty, shameful,
shadowy parts that we try to hide.

We saw the Milky Way
and it told us to be generous,
to be kind,
to be loving,
because at the ending of our days
this is what we will wish to be known for,
not the hours of overtime we worked,
or the days we spent unnecessarily apart from our families,
or the fights we had,
or the amount of money we made.

We saw the Milky Way
and it told us to be silent,
to cease the inane chatter
and wait, spell-stopped
until we can hear the
music of the Milky Way.

Standing on a Cumbrian hill
we saw the Milky Way.

© 2 September 2013

My journey

My journey began
by arriving at Plum Village
to be greeted by the sign,
'I have arrived, I am home'.

No,
my journey began before then and
that was a stepping stone on the path.

My journey begins afresh each morning
in a silent sitting,
being with the breath
and seeing what arises.

My journey is a spiral
that keeps coming back
to the silent space
at the centre of the heart.

My journey is often walked alone
and is never walked alone.

My journey lasts a lifetime,
several lifetimes
and begins and is concluded
with each awakened footstep.

My journey starts and finishes
each time I acknowledge
'I am home'.

© 20 August 2013

The Blue Sky

Lying in the grass
gazing at the blue sky
scudded across with
white and greying clouds.
My teacher says
our mind is like the blue sky,
punctuated with scudding clouds,
but can we appreciate they are
moving, not static?
They arise, move onto the horizon
of our awareness
and they go.

Some are more immovable.
They come
and seem to stay
longer than invited.

I see layers of clouds
letting sunbeams shine
arrow-straight, through.
Some come and go
with barely a moment’s interruption
to the blue sky,
and some linger,
demanding to be noticed,
begging for attention.

For all these clouds
in their shape-changing infinite variety,
the blue sky is unchanged,
untouched by them all
and remains a clear, blue sky.

© 7 August 2013

What are these stones?

What are these stones that lie loose
to trip my footfall?
These stones with treasure hidden in their centre,
shiny, blue-grey flint
gleaming from within an innocuous, pebble-like rock.
Are these the same stones
the innocent Tess walked on
towards her dangerous adventures?
And is this rolling landscape
with ripening wheat fields
the same that Hardy knew as
he depicted Tess and her Angel?
They would not recognise the distant mechanical hum
of the combine harvester collecting the wheat,
but would they know the trees with
the same secrets to share
in an ivy-clad hush?
And in years to come,
when another Hardy strolls
these lanes and gazes appreciatively
over the undulating hills,
will he stop in wonder
to select a treasure
from beneath his footfall,
shiny, blue-grey flint
gleaming from within an innocuous, pebble-like rock?

© 7 August 2013

I am come

I am come.

I am come because I heeded your need.
The wandering wind caught your cry and
brought it to me.
The busy butterflies on the butterfly bush
heard your calling
and beat their wings to let me know.
The purple-centred poppies proclaimed 

the news of your need.
The buzzing bees humming
from flower to flower
came to tell me of your suffering.
And so I am come.
I am here.

© 14 August 2013

Breathing meditation

Incense-filled nostrils on the in-breath,
aware of cold nose on the out-breath.
Breathing down in the body,
gentle expansion, gentle retraction.

Aware of breath in the hands,
soft, undulating breath,
hands take on a new identity,
not mine, but part of me,
expanding and retracting,
a new awareness of hands.

Sitting, breathing.
Incense-filled nostrils on the in-breath,
aware of cold nose on the out-breath.

A pain in the back
comes to the forefront of awareness.
Don’t push it away,
don’t wish it away.
Breathe into it, and out from it.

Be with it, embrace it.
It is part of sitting meditation,
part of breathing meditation.

© 6 August 2013

Take my hand

I've just been on a retreat to New Barn in Dorset for a Community of Interbeing retreat which was amazing and wonderful and spacious! And quite a few poems were written, so there may well be a number of posts in the next few days with my offerings :)

Take my hand

Take my hand and I will lead you
to a place of miracles,
where we will glide noiselessly over
scrunching pebbles and
our feet will not make a sound,
we will ride the curled clouds
that cry out for the golden fire
the sun adorns their shoulders with,
we will surf atop the rolling waves
never having to experience the crash on the beach,
we will paint ourselves from the vast palette
the combination of feathery clouds,
blue sky and setting sun throw out,
we will sit silently until
the dance of endless colours fades
to a darkening sky,
and the evening star appears,
we will meet in that magical place
where the sound of the bell and
the surfing sea intermingle.
Take my hand.

© 11 August 2013