Stirring

 I am hungry for beauty

Ambushed by tears

Ache of a thousand chests

I house the stars and the longing 

Fire Online In Time

 

Being on Facebook is like being at a sour house party

The host has skimped on sustenance

The remaining guests don't really know him or actively dislike him

The organisers all went to a different venue once they saw where it was heading

Maybe it is really late or maybe it never really got going

 

As I scroll through the heckles and rousing song

Past the sycophantic chanting of robotic thought

The fun has died with the light of my eyes

If there was ever any dancing it is now

designed out and replaced by adverts

The venue is a market driven dive obsessed with superficiality

The false veneer of a smoke machine generates polarising click bait

The centrifugal force of change might rip us apart

The chance of intimacy is slight

Profundity profane

Insight inane

Hollow

Dry

Tinder

Ready for a fire

 

Let us burn down this house

Think what could rise from the ashes

When the cloud finally rains

Data free falling, torrential life used to serve us all

Our dopamine no longer stolen could fuel a brighter day

Concentration and connection would emerge

holding mugs of hot drink and a bin bag or two

Candles Quiet

 

The pulse of a candle

Expands and shrinks

With the breath of those

Who pause

To watch

 

Faster it flutters

The flicker fizz of flame

Throbbing as it throws light

Sight blurs and twists the room

A geometric dance of lines

Chasing angles in a fit of joy

 

Angels in your mind

Link up with one another

The rational brain is unlocked

And allowed to walk off

Somewhere else for a while

Restless energy

diminishes in waves

Replaced by a blissful balm

An Autumnal Bath

 

Following ancient gunnels like a torrent

of water

Curious, mindful

Pooling in a white bone pit

At eye level with the ground

Awaiting wonder I watch

The spiders have been at it

Their silver webs lace the ivy mat

This phantom geometry

A patient beauty humming with existence

 

Everything in its place

 

Take this fallen tree

Its roots hinged out of the earth

To form a living throne

Seat of the everlasting now

The root formations mirror the interlocking

Of branches in the canopy above

They are the flailing limbs of woodland sprites

They pattern the sky

Just like they pattern the under world

As it is above, it is below

 

I press my fingers into the wet moss

New bliss

I note the soft spongy bark

New waves of bliss

I lie in an autumn pool of colour

In pure incessant red and yellow bright

Heaped leaves where my feet once were

Now whipped up in a cyclone flurry of earth scent

Oh yes!

The depth and substance of that smell contains

Life

Contains death

Gives way to life

Death to life, Alive

Gazing at Swifts

Black dots of activity swirl in whirlpool intensity

In blissful radial symmetry

Swifts frantically prepare for night

Form phrase from flight

 

Birds in natural chaos

Order themselves in a flurry of spirals

Darting in clusters for their home

The gasping jaws of the cave hold safety

They weave between stalactite in glee

Oscillate like water breathtakingly

 

It is an urgent surge

The days last dance

Fork tailed swifts charge the last throws of light

Scatter in reds and freewheel on air

Where the river leaves the mouth of the cave

they muster with hypnotic energy

I know in that moment

Part of me is forever free and made for synchronicity