Inspired

The nights journey
Reflected the days journey
The creative souls of the day
Came back to warm the night

Those hours of being inspired
Landed into a few dream moments
Distillations of the sensitive people
Instilled with a sense of self-wonder

You might look up Robert Plant
Or Bert Jansch, or Antony Gormley
If for just a few of their ideas, or for their
Words, and their experiences to touch you

You may of course have your own list
But please, choose it, from just one day
For somehow I think that to go to overload
Would be a detriment to our sensibilities

Best to aim for that level
Which we may be sensibly able
To physically, and psychologically
Handle our thoughts and our emotions

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Circuits

To the sensations of the left cheek
Where I visualised all the greens of the forest
And came peacefully to the recognition
That the ambiance of those times
Had created an openness within
Such that your words, your
Guided meditations moved me
To such an extent
That I had to tell everyone

Now, here alone in Derbyshire, England
Early in the morning, a light sky breaking
With the sensation in my upper left arm
Raising a visual accompaniment
Of snow in the fields, which fall
Gradually down to the farmhouse
In the slight misted valley below

And I am taken on many special journeys
With each new part of the body I survey
I arrive at a pleasant sensation, even
At the toes, which feel to be swaddled
In bandages, as if no longer entirely free
I will write, to ask of you
To mail your script for meditation, and
Thank you in advance, for the openness
With which I hope to redeem it

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Blues & White

Experiencing beauty
Makes you more beautiful
Experiencing creativity
Makes you more creative
Experiencing inspiration
Makes you more inspired
Experiencing confidence
Makes you more confident
Clean blue jeans
Clean white shirt
It must be Saturday morning
Experiencing repetition
Makes you more judicious

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Day

Nice to go home early
Time to be on my own
Time to think of you
In ways not possible
With the disturbance
Of external forces

The warmth, and the dizziness
The cold, and the calculating

Nice to go home early
To think of you
In the interests of my own
Pleasure and satisfaction
Down the garden path
Unlocking the glass door

The breeze, and the sunlight
The expectation, and the belief

Nice to go home early
To think of you

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What We Do

For a few moments
I have the silence
I ought not to waste it

Outside is a white-blue sky
And a good wind in the trees
I think of you, listening
To our disruptive words

It is hard to let go
It is easier to be angry

Or at least it seems so
Without the breath
Of meditation to calm me

Which itself becomes a force
For misplaced attention

The ears ring louder today; tube
Train experiences in circulation
So much activity in so little time
No wonder a shot of angst arose

Yesterday may well have been
The end of a gentle winter; in the park
Old men sat, reading their old newspapers

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