Of Being

Just being
Fluid time
Fluid space

The days bleed into one another
Full to the brim
As ever

Owl hoots seep through open windows
A happy little churn
My stomach

Be present
In time
In space

Everything is tuned into one song
The rhythm of life
A metronome

The sun warm on my skin
Wind in my hair
My breath

Be grateful
For time
For space

To be continued ... what do you think so far? 

Beltane

I can hear the blackbird call
Charcoal feathered bantam weight
And the cherry blossoms fall
Porcelain transparency

Spring air through a window pane
Broken by the passing time
In an attic on a farm
Echoes granny’s lullaby

Past and future meeting now
In this song carrying on
The blackbird is a different one
Melody unchanged

Memories of lilac scent
Purple iris added on
Suspended I am now–was then
Walking through the time beyond

Each note is a step I take
Each breeze is a breath
An image every memory makes
Until none is left

I am on my way back home
As the wind will blow
Gone the years and bleached the bones
What’s left is a wandering soul

Meandering Mind

My mind tumbles through the silence
The only noise
Wind
No cars
No planes

Even the birds are resting
Is everyone taken lunch time naps now?
Not even a lawn-mower
Which so viciously
Cut through the silence on Sunday

I had four coffees already
Yet tiredness becomes impossible to fight
Shall I sleep
Or do my one-a-day
Go out
Get moving
Keep moving

Keep living

Where did this come from
The living
Thing
Is movement life?
Is resting non-life?

Limbo
Life on hold?

What’s wrong with a nap anyway?

A car cuts through the silence after all
But wind swallowed the noise
And is taking over
The roof beams creak
Quietly though
As if aching with age
But trying to hide it

I should wash my face
And then let the wind
Blow away the cobwebs
Of my meandering mind

Valentine’s Too Late

Two heart shaped balloons
Looming
Above their table

Him
Her
Starring ahead
Just so that they don’t

HAVE
to
look
at
one
another

Agony
So tangible
My eyes are drawn to them
A couple?
Window Seat
One of the best in the restaurant

The kitschy cheerfulness
of the heart-shaped balloons
Is fighting a lost battle

Love was lost when?
There is not even positive regard
Body language closed off
As if they just survived a battle
And now the king forces the enemy warriors
To reconcile

Happy Valentine’s Day

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