Together

I count your prayers

Weigh them

Pace the space where our dreams once were.

Lets

Walk the line of each other’s scars

Tread life into dead tissue.

I watch you

Loiter in the undergrowth

I wait for you

To stumble on my sting

The anger I am hiding in

Lets

Throw a back yard sale

Throw away the tattered 

Sell what we don't want

Refind buried treasure

The present is all we have

Dreams will come 

Once they grow large enough

Till then we tend our wounds

In love 

Light

Paying  attention  to  light  again.  The  way  it  flows  and  sits,  plays  and  bathes,  always  present.

The  glare  of  lights  face  unsteady  into  fixed  into  loose  and  shimmering.  The  shapes  of  light,

stripped,  dappled  and  blocked.  Stabs  of  light,  portholes  of  light,  windows  to  other

dimensions.


What  of  the  light  in  me  that  needs  to  be  recognised,  needs  to  connect  with  the  light  in  the

world.  To  be  drawn  out.  To  find  in  bright  step  its  origin  and  fulfillment.  And  the  darkness

in  me  which  waits  in  emptiness  to  wrestle  me  down.


That  dance  of  light  and  dark  an  energetic  plume  of  mystery.  A  creative  force.

Silence

Silence together, something unnamed

something shared

Silence together, a distance undisturbed

or not tested

If we were able to hear every thought

What cacophony would we witness?

What disturbed and worried

flutters of thought

Too full

The call is too full

It fills up instantly

Everywhere is promising 

Backwards

                 Forwards

and Now

Brimming with yes

Body a quiet

                     trembling

Relief

         Ease

                  Rest

To The Echelons Of Power

To the echelons of power, wherever you are
It is not too late to turn, please
play a different role
Another world is waiting to manifest

Wont you pacify the grotesque hubris which has you
funding private escape pods
destined for far off planets
What do you have to offer the mystery of space?
Except a profound disconnection with your origin and kin
The unfolding caverns of majesty require an imagination
one that goes beyond your sterile lunges for survival
You vampires of the common wealth
Do not build bunkers out of fear and petrol
Give to regeneration
Stop casting the most vulnerable as fodder
May the word collateral choke in your throats

What remains still extends grace towards you
Still the trees suffocated by indifference give oxygen
and the blessing of a raindrop on your skin is a whisper
Do not only hear a warning of scarcity and acid
In that whisper hear hope too
and turn
Join in and work for regeneration  

Victims of Power

https://tompburgess.blogspot.com/2019/05/to-echelons-of-power.html

By Tom Burgess and Oliver Bancroft