where there are shadows
there is light
even in darkness
our bodies can feel
and with such safety of presence
we can walk out on wet sands
we can prepare for the theatre
which comes into our lives
the warm air of kindness
is aware of our love
a blue sky mind
of headland meadows
is welded seamlessly
into our thoughts
in that moment of memory
where we grasp for the salt
in the sea’s fresh estuary air
sat here on the quayside
with prawns and peroni
in the dreamy afternoon sun
then to step out through
fragrant parklands and gardens
towards the brick floor courtyard
where we approach
the ever so so solid doorway
into the presence of love
at six-forty-five or thereabouts
i hear the geese
on their way perhaps
from their night time
place of safety
to the daytime feeding grounds
or because it is warming up
allegedly
or are they beginning
their long flight
back to summer in the arctic
the pathways of love
are scattered with fresh seeds
waiting for the footprints of lovers
to make their impressions
into the receptive ground of being
where the process of creation evolves
step by loving step
is poetry
always from the past
i was asked
by one particular person
i thought of dust
dust behind the door
dust beneath the floorboards
yes i said the past is always
where the dust settles
