Swathed, mist cool
Tasting blue dawn
As still as an egg
Hushed as only August can be
Held in a lap of seasons
Replete, ripening,
Remembered now
The bite that is frost,
The gradual fall inwards.
Posts Tagged ‘seasons’
Hushed
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged art, August, dawn, hill country, landscape photography, landscspe, late summer, light, mist, photography, Poetry, seasons, sky, valleys, Wales on August 20, 2015| Leave a Comment »
A Pearl Day
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged beginning of summer, consciousness, daybreak, dream, ephemeral phenomena, hawthorn, landscape, mist, nature, perception, Poetry, reality, seasons, time, viewpoint on June 4, 2015| 2 Comments »
A pearl day, smoke shaped.
A lick of mist this river’s voice.
Hills turn cloud, clouds become all.
A single dreaming moment
Explains everything.
More precious than breath
It lifts weightless, turns and dissolves,
Sky colours leaning out.
What was golden dulls to dust.
An aching tumble of sweet May,
A thorned white wave enthroned.
A season’s birth heavy laid,
A full descent, a grace,
An offered all, begun.
—
June Now
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged balance, elder, elder flowers, june, landscape, nature, Poetry, seasons, summer, time on June 1, 2014| Leave a Comment »
JUNE NOW
Days as laid out cream white,
Days as numbered and round,
Days as fragrant as elder.
Worlds turned facing sunlit skies,
Worlds warmed, fed and content.
Golden bowls, sky-blue bowls and green
Holding as much as may be.
For a few weeks, near perfect balance:
Heaven and earth set spinning
On fingertip of time,
A measured delight.
—
Two for Imbolc
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Devon, February, Haiku-ish, Imbolc, landscape, morning, nature, Poetry, seasons, time, weather on February 2, 2014| 2 Comments »
VALLEY SPIRIT
Over the last hill
Our prize is the view
Where the village nests,
Wood wreathed, woodsmoke.
Gathered fields almost,
Almost ready for spring
But patient, cautious,
Unhurried.
As unhurried as the morning.
Its grey lambswool clouds,
A blanket for Imbolc.
—
CROSS-HATCH
Imbolc morning:
Clouds like wolves,
And sheep.
Sun on all.
—
On Long Tides
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged languid, memory, mind, moments, Poetry, seasons, thought, tides on January 27, 2014| 2 Comments »
On long tides
The rivers rest.
Longer than
Long moments
Of memory.
Swaying words
Swinging between meanings.
Lost days
Remembered and forgotten,
Sweet details, seasons.
Flicker and returning
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged art prints, Autumn, Haiku-ish, landscape, mandala, Poetry, seasons on September 21, 2013| 5 Comments »
As it is almost Autumn Equinox, here are two short seasonal pieces that arose recently.
FLICKER
He cools the air, calling crow,
A rasp of drift, the crisping leaves.
All things desire to sink earthwards
Towards a fitting sleep.
The sky left more void, blue, vast,
Scraped clear – the circling cry of buzzards.
It gutters, flares and flickers:
The nub of summer.
We become atmospheric, vapourous.
We are tumbled down, crumbled to autumn.
Made old, aged again,
Circumscribed, hemmed in
By hours of darkness.
—–
RETURNING
Light pushed at day’s end,
A cold, blue edge.
All hearts, filling, emptying, filling.
The year grows small again,
Summer’s passion eases.
We can go home,
Look inside,
Light fires,
Dream dreams.
—–
May, Kissed
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged coupling, fertility, love, May, morning, nature, Poetry, seasons, sensuality, spring on May 1, 2013| 1 Comment »
MAY, KISSED
White puddle
Seed cools
Moon damp
Blue
Sky bed.
May dawn
Opening
Long-limbed,
Dewed.
Kissed, one
By one
Each fold
Each hollow.
Sun-covered,
Warmed,
Held.
****
Tied
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged awareness, being here now, belonging, consciousness, deep ecology, Exaltation, existence, life, meaning, nature, Poetry, seasons, space, time, world on April 7, 2013| 4 Comments »
TIED
My heart is tied to the swell of time.
This tide of days, this wash of seasons.
This breath, this slow explosion,
This unfolding, this revealing and concealing.
Unfurled, I am stretched elastic
From dawn to dusk,
From horizon to horizon’s edge,
Surprised by cloud and bluster,
Swept up in flock and murmur.
Chimed, cascaded,
Catapulted into distance,
Collapsed to dancing, molecular dust.
Sun-caught, moon-cooled, star-pierced,
Tumbled through grasses and shadows,
Shorn by cold, wakened by ice,
Shaped and turned, lathed, formed,
Reduced, concentred, made real,
Made utterly real, made whole.
Gauged and runnelled,
Flooded in memory,
Eroded in seconds and hours,
Made into the new,
Then back to familiar, dust.
A rise and fall,
A breath, a heartbeat,
A word
Whispered.
*
Balm
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged awareness, consciousness, everything, landscape, life, moon, night, peace, Poetry, seasons, stillness, the universe on March 2, 2013| 2 Comments »
BALM
I shall cool my mind
Upon the low golden moon
I shall drain my habitual sorrow
Letting it flow earthwards
And rest.
Rounded quietness
The clear roof
Of a star-filled night.
Everything is as it is.
Everything is moving
Towards
A dancing of its own nature.
Sleep and dream and waking,
The blink of day and night-
Vibrations on the rim of
Creation’s bowl.
The rippled liquid,
Concentric pools,
An eye-blink.
Breath from the wing
Of a passing owl.
Polish the mirror,
Breath and sleep.
Frost at dawn
And the new lamb’s
Thin cry.
In the dead elm
Two magpies
Are building a nest,
Ivy clad, bejewelled.
As long as it can
Life will fill
All voids,
Dancing heedless
Over the precipice
Of time,
Disregarding limits,
Floating
As if it were
A garland, a light,
Set adrift
As a blessing
As an asking
Upon one great river
Sedate, curving slow,
Seawards.
Filled with Birds
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cats, dawn, dreaming, February, landscape, Poetry, seasons, song, vision, weather on February 23, 2013| 4 Comments »
FILLED WITH BIRDS
Dawn glides in silence,
Settles
Crystallising
around purring cats,
(quiet watching eyes
filling each room).
This house:
A pebble set against
A river of wind.
Two days ago
The sun splashed spring,
A bright relaxing,
Filled with birds.
Now,
Winter has returned
To gnaw our bones.
Still, light is growing
At either end of day,
Stretched, though, and pale,
But welcome.
I am become an interweaving
Of days and moments,
A halting song
Made poignant
By strange harmony,
An old song
With new words
And a new tune.
Days
Filled with birds.
Nights,
Dream-filled,
Word-filled.
A pebble set
Against
A river of time.
