Despite what we imagine
In our sometime pain,
Beset either by aching anticipation
Or subsequent loss,
Lovers are never found by chance.
So tell that to the trees,
Who’ve seen it all
Countless times before
And can only stand apart
In the meadow of life
And wait
For us to dream again,
Like some broken hearted waif
On a grimy street,
For whom only the predatory
Are likely to stop.
For not even fool’s comfort
Can cling on there
To inhibit notes of caution
That would otherwise trim our wings,
Spoil any such dividend.
And so much more too!
Seems like
We always had this coming.
Our needs, till met,
Like rising sap,
Like clotted pollen in the air.
As it always is
In beauty’s sweet surrender,
Desire is the irresistible pull
That draws us steadily on to one another
And then fruits.
You were in me all along.
It is all joining up now,
Gradually gathering in
Its own coherent story.
And, as things play out,
It’s hard not to be tempted
To imagine that your life
Thus far
Has been one long exercise
In intertwining truths,
Progressively
And teasingly uncovered.
Long twisted, luminous
Ribbons of light,
That continue to unravel
In extraordinary patterns
That run not only
Right through
The core of times past
And your own span of existence,
But all the ages still to come.
So just what is at play here,
If not some juggernaut
Of collective consciousness?
Or is this something
Far more complex?
More telling still, I wonder…
See how fate decrees
That such sweet
And illuminating experiences
Can sometime come to you,
And altogether
In charmed combination,
Becoming powerfully reminiscent
Of something,
Instinctively it feels like
You already knew,
A long, long time ago.
And that somehow,
Has, all at once,
Been magically
Re-birthed within you,
Once more.
Just what
An extraordinary feeling this is…
Such shimmering seeds
Of joy and certainty,
Miraculously made anew,
Both to raise you up
And power you on.
So that, on the very best of days,
It can seem like
The world around you
Is now filled with such a warm
And welcoming frequency
So inviting,
You instantly know
Your heart
Will make it impossible
For you not to go with it…
To answer this siren call,
To step up
And fill that space
With who you truly are.
If so blessed,
This life of ours can therefore,
From time to time,
Overwhelm, as it must.
And, as a consequence,
One must learn how
To pause,
How to be truly rich.
Believe me,
There are moments when
My heart aches so
And the stunningly sculpted shape
Of a lone red kite
Flies overhead in a clear blue sky.
Increasingly it seems,
These days,
Things are falling into place.
Here I am,
As if to confound myself,
Just as I ever was.
Seemingly little more
Than an excited dervish,
Forever chasing shadows,
Knowing that,
Come what may,
Beauty will continue
To throng around me,
Till I am no more.
What was it I never told you?
For isn’t it true that,
Without fear,
We are capable of anything…
The smell of fresh rain,
Like gunpowder on the lawn,
Embellishes the day,
As the summer rips on.
And we can but wonder
As, flawless,
Early morning moisture,
Stranded on a leaf,
Glints in the sunshine.
The world watches
And waits for us, it seems…
As if to suggest tis best
To have an unquiet response
To the nature of things.
So drink deep of your sorrows,
Drink deep of your joy
And then love and live restlessly
For as long as the charged ache
In your spirit allows.
A need for connection,
Attachment.
Drawn in, enchanted by
Resonances with nature
And the kinship of others,
With beauty
Forged by heart’s endeavour.
And so should we
Always aspire to polish
Such precious attainment
With love,
A blessed friction of sorts
That allows us
To birth our night into day
And bathe it clean,
So that beloved things can glow
Together in a litter of light.
Every new dawn is a flitter,
A speckled canvas
Of light and possibility,
Upon which
Even the saddest amongst us
Re-materialise daily
As nothing,
If not indefatigable creatures of hope.
For even to be downcast
Is, in itself, an admission
Of such.
A telling acknowledgement
That something’s slipped away
You still hanker after.
See how, all around,
The sweet breath of joy and inspiration
Patiently awaits
The lift of will it needs from you
To lease back fresh hope
To your heart,
In a world
Where such states of grace,
Whenever they are coalesce,
Have no name, no shape,
No certainty…
So be as gallant as you can,
And take the best
Of whatever might fall your way.
As if the luckiest of adventurers,
The boldest of us
Will sometimes rise up to be,
Reaching out
Towards the improbable.
For life, wherever it leads,
Will always be the same;
It begs for the best of you.
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