Posted in Uncategorized, tagged birdsong, church, dawn, landscape, light, May, nature, pigeon, Poetry, song, Sound, sparrows, spring, sunday on May 4, 2014| Leave a Comment »
SERMON
From his pulpit
On the top-most branch
The wood pigeon’s
Sonorous sermon
Drones, resounding,
Slow around.
Beneath him,
Hidden in back-pew bush
Disrespectful sparrows,
In their Sunday best browns and bibs,
Chatter and play,
Impious, but loved,
Regardless
Of the Most High.
—
LIGHT
An instant before birdsong.
Time returns with increments of colour.
Light is all there is:
Light frozen, light expanding.
We orbit meaning, voiceless
In wonder,
Witnesses to glory.
—-
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged angels, art, Beltane, birds, dawn, digital art, landscape, light, mandala, may day, morning, nature, Poetry, print, spring, summer on May 1, 2014| 2 Comments »
BELTANE DAWN
1
A thin thread: birdsong squeezed through,
Floods open: light, blue and still.
Time dances, each moment
A coming and a going.
A sound of slow wingbeats,
A calling of mating angels.
Souls tumbling together
In the undergrowth.
The vapours of summer:
Arising smiles.
The song grows stronger:
A limitless uncurling,
A gesture of compassion,
A mudra of offering up.
2
Still pillows:
The grey cloud
Furled, uncurled
A world greened.
Two slow crows,
Shadows mated,
North by north-east
Over the dew wet fields,
Over the singing wood.
Light pushed in
From subtle edges.
A moment of flowers,
Blossomed exhalation.
She stretches in sleep,
A sudden perfume.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged alap, April morning, April showers, Bhairavi, birdsongart, blackbirds, England, Haiku, Haiku-ish, Indian music, jor alap, landscape, morning, music, nature, photograhy, Poetry, raag, rain, Sound on April 27, 2014| Leave a Comment »
HAIKU : ALAP AND JOR ALAP
Raag Bhairavi
Alap of blackbirds
Rain cooling breeze.
—
Liquid air
Alap of blackbirds
Wind tampura.
—
Cloud blooms blackbird’s song
New green sways dances
Welcome rains welcome breezes
Mind tongue tastes cool day
Touch settled on clear moments.
—
(Classical Indian music is arranged in developmental sections. First, is a slow alap where the notes of the scale (raga, raag) are explored in relation to the pakad or thematic melody of the piece. Next comes a jor alap, which is slightly more structured with a rhythmic percussive accompaniment on the chikari strings ( akin to strumming on the guitar combined with a lead melody picked out).
Raag Bhairavi is one of my favorites. I believe it is a morning raag, but has a rather haunting and melancholy pakad with a lovely descent of notes.)
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged contrast, dawn, Good Friday, Haiku, haiku sequence, Haiku-ish, landscape, moon, Poetry, rising, the infinite, thinness, weightlessness on April 18, 2014| 2 Comments »
GOOD FRIDAY
1
Dew beads the grasstops,
Drawn upwards by the moon.
Still air,
birdsong, too, rising.
My heart,
weightless
Lifts,
Hollow ghost.
2
Beading grasstops
Dew drawn upward –
The brightest moon
The brightest moon
Birdsong rising –
Cloudless sky
Cloudless sky –
My heart, weightless,
Turns like a ghost.
Turns like a ghost,
Moon in the west,
Seeks shelter
In the deep hills
In the deep hills
Night remains.
Rising birdsong
Rising birdsong
A world dividing.
Edges of the sky
Edges of the sky
Weightless heart
Moonlit dawn
Moonlit dawn
Rising and falling
The way of heaven
Way of heaven
Floating heart
Weightless souls
Weightless souls
Rise on birdsong.
The dew has fallen.
3
Taking wing
They rise and melt –
Departing moments.
Departing moments.
My weightless soul
Rolls over
In cool, moonlit dawn
In cool, moonlit dawn
Dreams depart.
The way of heaven.
The way of heaven:
One window, the moon.
One window, the sun,
Heart between,
Remaining.
4
The dead rise weightless.
Some to the sun,
Some to the moon,
Some to the hollow skies.
They rise on floating song,
The birds of dawn.
Turning slowly,
Moment by moment
Forgetting their names,
Into the eternal expanses
Of a patient heaven.
—
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged allegory, art, awareness, bleating lambs, digital jiggerypokery, early morning, easter, Haiku-ish, landscape, landscape photography, meditation (definition of), morning, Poetry, sheep, Sound, spring, sun, vision, witness on April 17, 2014| 3 Comments »
EASTERTIDE
Morning sun.
Lambs and ewes.
In the shadows
Where frost dissolves:
Cool moved airs,
A glistening reflection.
A movement,
A stillness:
The space where thought
Had been.
—
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged age, art, awareness, consciousness, emptiness, fullness, landscape, matter, metaphysics, mind, nature, Poetry on April 16, 2014| 2 Comments »
OPEN
Beyond doing,
beyond not doing,
beyond beginning again
and remembering.
Disbelieving nothing,
the old man,
walking
through walls.
—
WITHIN WITHOUT
Neither is it the wind
Nor the tree
That howls
In this storm:
In the convolution of the ear,
In the eye’s tear,
In the blood’s roar,
It finds a home.
Emptiness
Finding and losing
Edges.
Bitter beauty,
Is beauty
Nonetheless.
—
KEEN
Slaked,
tongue cup still tastes,
somewhere,
sharp sorrow,
pulse.
—
DEFINE
Clarity: not a knowing,
not a thing,
not graspable,
never owned.
It is a landscape, high,
with a wind from the mountains,
a forgetting of,
a removal of frames and views,
cold on the tip of the tongue….
—
RESOUND
When we hear a phrase of the tune we have always danced to,
we remember and forget,
become more and less ourselves.
That’s it, that’s it.
Struck dumb by namelessness,
bright eyed,
melting.
—
—
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged april, Haiku, landscape, March, moon, nature, Poetry, rainbows, spring, storm, weather on April 9, 2014| 2 Comments »
Passionate lovers,
These winter and spring days.
March and April,
How they so
Tear at each other, caress
With smiles,
Fall together,
Push apart, preen,
Rush oblivion and break
As waves at high tide
On each other’s panting flesh.
Rain
Seeds dashed,
Rainbows unfurl,
Sudden sun, dark squall,
A mating in time and space,
Conjunction of contraries.
—
Moon worn thin
High north wind
Spring thaw.
—
Half a moon
Ice in the river
Slowly melting.
—
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged art, belonging, consciousness, environment, essence of being, Faerie kingdoms, flow, Freedom, identity, Iona, Keys to the Green Kingdoms, landscape, liminal doorways, liquidity, Mull, Otherworlds, Poetry, Scotland, transformative, undines, water, water spirits, waves on April 7, 2014| Leave a Comment »
KEY NINE
(Undines)
“Your science of rigidities
Are lies of the fearful.
We, here, are void and free.
Infinite, immortal flow.
Limitless, deathless
Tuned, turning tides,
Roaring silence.
Impossible song
None can forget.
Escape you frozen fears,
Melt,
Meander.
You are, anyway,
Made vessels for our fierce bliss.
Flow,
Willing.
Let go.
Find us,
Void and free.”
—
simonhlilly 
Conversations with Invisible Friends 13
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged ., art, comments, conciouosness, conversations, fragments, landscape, nature, Poetry on May 2, 2014| 4 Comments »
WINGS
Looking over the hills,
Low cloud,
Dusk after rain.
I would wish you
All wings,
My friends.
—
SOUND CHAMBER
This voice born from caves
This voice shaping emptiness
This voice, the flavour of silences.
—
CUP
This vessel of poetry
Always lucid, empty
Til held and warmed
By palms, tipped
Towards lips,
An exchange of breath..
—
TICK
There is no time
In the worlds of spirit,
Nor in the worlds of matter.
Only in the mind of Man
Does the click and tick
Of moments
Signify a neurotic cauldron
To oblivion or eternity.
—
HAVEN
This mind, timeless, anchored
Rocks, sways, on word tides.
Gull-wind senses roam and wheel
Searching food.
The patterns of love
And belonging
In rippled reflections.
Harboured, havened, home.
—
SLIGHT
Sweet violet
White and nodding,
Rising in damp westerlies.
Prophets with blazing heads roar by
Raving,
Not hearing, not caring.
—
SEMIOTICS
Nice, nice, nice!
(Triple nice denotes favour of the gods),
a vapour aromatic, bitter,
Rising from certain, approved of,
Sacrifice.
One who knows his place
And knows it might
Be nowhere particular,
Except the particularity
Of cloud chambers
And the silent
Expansion of a supernova
(Inexplicably given
Nomenclature
Of someone’ wife).
The only object
Is its name.
Three moving lines.
Hence the wise man
Remains silent
Watching the return
Of swallows.
No blame.
—
IN THE MACHINE
Love the depths!
What computers really dream,
what they say to each other,
not just oh and one,
but a cosmology of dark spaces,
exploding stars….
—
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