resurrection

Gliding, flying, stumbling

crying

sighing

laughing

singing

I came home

to my beloved

I said I was buried and resurrected

because when you drink to the fire

you expose the bitter truths hiding deep

inside your heart

and when you hear your own heart

beat out the truth

then you begin to stride

rather than scurry

and as women

we have to

that is written

it is given

you carry your singing crying sighing laughing

voice inside your head

and beseech it to descend into

your underground

realm of humming happiness

from where you rise

resurrected

do you know what resurrected means?

It means coming back with the

power of the feminine

rising from the dead

being human once again

and being

woman always.

Listen

to the waves

to the silence in between

to the clouds gathering

to the raindrops not yet released

listen to the smell of the water

tickeling the earth

all senses are dancing together

the smell of the sound

and the sound of the smell

meld

into

one

Listen

to the drumbeats

inside your heart

and ask

where they

connect you to

can you join the dots?

What pictures emerge

just listen

be with the multiple

sounds of silence

resonance

quite

contemplative

innocence

listen

to the hungry

ghosts

inside

you

howling

waiting to devour

scraps of joyful self surrender

won't you offer them

a thick slice of freedom

a cup of gratitude tea

mix in the spice of lovely acceptance

and agree to weep for them
if necessary

now, listen.......

Every sip of that tea
was bitter
today

i sat alone
with a saucer in one hand
absently taking the cup
in the other
bringing it to my parched lips......

the bitterness came
from the bitter-sweet memories
of those days
funny
how the bitterness alone stayed
until...........
you walked through the door
and with a brush of
your hand
and an air of happy abandon
you made the saucer drop
edgily
onto the table

that sound i will never forget
it clangs in my head
and reminds me of when i looked
longingly into my tea
searching for signs of a prophecy
when you walked right in through the door......

These precious moments

I was walking along the harbour
with the wind
unsparingly ruffling my mind
blowing my unconnected thoughts
in different directions

I would have thought
that a walk
along the water
amidst a silent bustle of people
wearing grim expressions
would be quiet
How was I to know
That the wind is not polite

I am now sitting at my desk
reflecting on today
on the moments we stayed close to ourselves
and the moments we strayed away

those moments that we were close to one another
the laughter
the frolic,
the alchemy in the air
the peace of understanding,
the giving
I savour
every minute detail there

I will walk around henceforth
holding these memories delicately
afloat
And as they sink
into my skin (for they eventually will)
these sweet thoughts of a day well lived,
yet another tomorrow
will come
to lay claim
over an unsuspecting me
with new drama unfolding
delicious story telling
no facade of stifling composure
to hide behind
you see

for even if the past does not exist
and a future arrives, unbeknownst to us
this moment will persist
infused with the pure joy
we shared today
a precious feeling
we created together
will stay in the now
with me
forever

Now.

So much of what we call memory
or desire
is nothing but a string
of thoughts
passing endlessly through a cage
like hamsters on a treadmill

we think back and look forward
and say o how wonderful
was that day
or
perhaps tomorrow will bring
another thrill
never mind
i can wait
while i gaze beyond that hill
drawing pictures in my mind's eye
projecting them onto the vast blue sky

how is it that we always escape
sitting in the one place
that is located in forever
it is called a moment
and incase you are wondering which one i mean
it is this one, right before you

i hope you can view it
for what it is
and love the promise
of nothing
except
perhaps a perfectly formed
eternally present
moment
it depends
on you

See it.

Now.

Down memory lane

I spent today wandering down memory lane
The same lovely houses,
safe streets, happy neighbourhoods
with us kids wandering into and out of everyone's homes

The parks that kept us occupied for hours
with no playground attached to it
just grounds
to run and yell
in gay abandon

I remembered how we used to admire
those great trees
Flame of the forest
Jacaranda
Cherry blossom
Such a riot of colours
This was the stuff of our arena

I remembered how we used to dive into the gutters
to retreive our playthings
while laughing uproariously
over a joke someone made up

I remembered how we would cycle
up and down streets
and then park our bikes
by the gate and walk into
our families
sitting for dinner

And if I were to ask
my playmates of then
what they remembered best
they would probably say
the elephant that used to surprise
us every once in a while
by walking majestically
down the road
with its keeper

such pleasures
we can only re-discover
if we are bold enough
to take a trip down memory lane
where we know these things surely still exist

Inspiration

Just the other day
inspiration left me
and went for a walk
down a dark alley

There she met
two monsters
one called misery
and the other called death

“Wait!”, said inspiration
don't go yet
I have come here
only to meet you
so i can validate myself

i have nothing to say to you
misery said
Then why dont you come with me
instead?
cried death

I am going nowhere
with you
for i want to emerge
Not move into oblivion
so everyone can search

I want to live up
to my name
dear sir
Not surrender to you
and leave behind
an empty world
for you to plunder through

I will turn around now
you catch me if you can
i dont recommend a chase
You will see me
i will race

I want to go back
to where I belong
into the hearts of men
and women
who's work
will live on

forever.....

I am once again inspired
And i hope to god it's true
that anything
i write from now on
is bound to be true
and with this little
piece
of personal hope
i will leave
this peppered page
and take my pencil over
into yet another
clean white space

Now tell me, my friend and fellow-seeker,
pray tell me, do
have you ever been
in these same two shoes?
has inspiration ever
left you?