Inside

When I close this page

May the conversations continue

Between what maybe never was

And what maybe was never meant to be

Might that they should explore

How close, or how far

Their emotions floated, drifted

In search of a stable mooring

That they could open the faces

Of the pebbles, the stones, the oceans

Such that they could hear the music

Of a love line leaning, all pervading

Might that they ask one another

Also ask of themselves

Was there any further that we could have gone

Was there any nearer which we could have been

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Lessen

That I have to write more

Is that I have to write more

That I have to write less

Is that I have to write less

That less is more

Is more or less all there is to say

More about mercurial moments

Less about savage heartbreak

More about simple beauty

Less about ugly indifference

That less is more

Is more or less all I am able to offer

Less about what is lost

More about what survived

Less about what disappears

More about what reappears

That more is less

Is more or less all that I have left

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To Trace

I am collating

I am facilitating

I am taking on board

Other men’s words

I am regurgitating

I am re-envisioning

I am once more contemplating

Other men’s thoughts

Yet I do see the sunlight

Yes, I do hear the birdsong

I do listen

To the prayers of morning meditation

Also, there

In the light of the candle

I am among that purity

I am alight with the love

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Glory Be The Glorious

I am aware, or I am made aware

Of the conflict of our suffering

That is; my suffering, your suffering, our suffering

It is a burden which I gift to you

It is a burden which I take from you

No more, never no more, no more ever no more

Furious as the fury might have been

Acceptance is willed in on the angel’s wings

The angels given courteous of the Celtic Wisdom

The wings adapted for our brows of suffering

Let us cherish that which we do not talk about

Let infinity guide us to the infinite

Let smooth light illuminate the jagged darkness

Let the morning take us into the day

The day then to lead us on into the Elysian Fields

There to celebrate the silence of the silences

To embrace the love of the love of the lovers

Step steadily into the courtyards of blossom

Witness how clear the path of the arrow

See how certain its tip enters the tree

That none of this might reach you

That the hollow man may echo hollow words

That the hillside is still there for the climbing

That the stream is where the water flows

Beneath the bridges to all of our yesteryears

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Tidal

To bathe in the beauty of vulnerability

To become immersed in that deeper love

Which passes itself off as invincibility

Such that the difficult questions may be asked

I am suffering; can you, will you, help me

I am in pain; can you, will you, stand by me

I have doubts; could you, would you, be beside me

I have loss; might you, may you, pray find me

To luxuriate in the infinity of the infinite

To become swathed in that love

Which offers itself, unseen, and unconditional 

Such that the open invitations may be invited

I have a peace, a calm, an entirety to give to you

I have a shelter, a lifestyle, a wish to parade you

I have a mind, a body, I have a lust going begging

I have joy, I have pleasure, I have much to share

To go on walkabout, each time with contradiction

To allow oneself to offer both sides of love

Which takes its turn to say that I am contradiction

Such that the reaching out may still reach out

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