water – Page 2 – three good words

March 30, 2015

two springs

two springs flow
clear against ancient bows
those sacred curves
rushing, slipping
silent-secret in shining liquid
quenching the sun
wetting monuments of once hottest blood:
molten stone erupting
oozing softly to the shore, burning
birthing an island in virgin foam.

seasons passed unheeded
storms raged and poured
and jagged peaks softened
deep as velvet, curved
seamed with crystalline white
bright-mystic black
silent against the endless surf;

yet deeper, and deeper still: the living heart
blooming bright against emerald blue
vaulted high and crisp
an untouched world
singing light and brilliant with wind-beat song.

March 29, 2015

morning ritual

under the shower: a reflection
wet and bare
skin showing
clean, gleaming

pearls merging to wetness
steaming
as the water whispers on and on
arias sung alone
private unknown glee

later, dressed
sitting at a surface
cup in hand, porcelain smooth
eating what was made
by recipes written

private perfect memories
held in immaculate hands

bliss
.

January 14, 2015

wild weather

sunlight shimmering
hazy over darkness, grey
clouds gathering swift
to mountains high
almost black, broiling
skimming, skating
racing across the endless sky

whirling, swirling
tumbling, ecstatic
in muted light
pouring itself out
into innocent eyes
open wide, staring
past the window
lips clouding the pane
mother! mother!
look, there!

a muted flash, sharply soft
a warning, first
of more to come
a rumble of sound
like a beast of old
rolling, roaring, above the dark
so heavy, so close
looming so low
yet above, a glow
bright, thundering
the ancient gods
hurling bolts oncemore –

a crack, a flash
the ear-splitting break
of light electric
connecting the ancient
to ground unknown
a pillar of power
sudden, sharp
making the young innocent
gasp and jump

shocked to see
light untamed
so bright, so bold
look! did you see?
there! there!
more and more
violent lines
jagged blades
all at once, exploding
in deafening sound
jabbing, jarring
the whole horizon
until a world awake
falls silent in awe and wonder.

and the child watches
wide-eyed
the glass pane clouded
seeing, believing
knowing this is very much real
always present, for all to see
fantastic, sublime
a gift almost, but frightening?
a laugh, oh no:
incredible, unbelievable, divine.

January 4, 2015

imagine once

there is something in the silence of the clear lines,
the divine arches of the old orders, now long lost in time
where silver and marble, wheat, amber and gold
were the wealth of a few amongst many;
that time, once, so far away
celebrated today in lands of plenty
a time, once, where life was short, hardship unquestioned,
and the sweetness of solace a luxury felt to the core.

A time, yes, when fire was known for its ecstatic warmth,
the flames divine and terrible, their power
and presence felt too often on human skin and human soul;
a time, too, when water was the sword of truth
by which holiness was divined, though to drink it alone was unwise
unless in beer, ale, or wine;

that time where earth and air were powers that gave and took
that made and broke whole realms with wind and weather and storm,
by the droughts so dreaded, and crops finally growing,
the rains prayed for , the sun steadily glowing…

…can we, today, in our lands of plenty
imagine once, just once, what it meant to be, to live, back then
when time was sun and moon and stars,
legends holy and sung, the songs of praise whispered and hummed
over open fires, heating the cauldrons that fed all in house and hut,
after thanking with grace and gratitude
the great, the holy, the one clouds 1

August 19, 2014May 17, 2020

zero gravity

There were moments now,

usually just before she fell asleep.

Then Marla felt her life had become a very broad space.

No longer clustered with drama, but a wide hall with little parcels of busyness and excitement, sadly never really connected. Like dots on a painting, there were bright splashes on the broad canvas

But when you looked at it,
the colour only projected the wide gaps

in between
the endless white
the quiet space.

But they were only moments,
flashes of thought, feeling.

Marla allowed the melancholy to linger only for so long.
Then she found she was being ungrateful.
She had a good life, she could not complain about anything much.