Sunday, 15 September 2013

And The Trees in the Garden Danced

The trees in the garden danced,  
Swayed in motion of the breeze. 
And as the music crescendoed, 
Straying peace settled and eased.
Soothing doubts of this wandering soul, 
That has for too long been wondering. 
But for a brief moment was whole, 
And all was well for that moment. 

And the sound of plastic on wood, 

As make-up breathed its smile.  
For night's questioning dwindled in sleep, 
Its longing by morning  beguiled. 
But lonesomeness flutters as sun sets, 
And mingles with each care. 
Toxic bluster, solemn alchemy, 
Lingers and sparks the air.

Until sleepy eyes open once more, 

Heart learns happiness is of your own making. 
No matter who the heart adores, 
Dependence leads only to aching. 
For our contentment cannot dwell 
In external fragility, 
As each path brings sorrow and joy, 
Our fulfillment, our responsibility.

Yet as trees in the garden danced,
And flourished to trembling rise. 
I for a moment wondered, 
And ventured a look to the skies. 

Show Me The Room

Show me the room where you shut out the light, 
Laboured last hours in twitching glimmers. 
Of that fine day and many fine days. 
Show me the room, 
For I've only see the door. 

Show me the room where you laughed, teased and played, 

Idled away dark hours of winter nights 
Lifting spirits, soaring hearts. 
Show me the room,  
For I've only seen the door. 

Show me the room where you knew, 
That for you, the world had changed,

Events that struck, and inner struggle sparked, 
Show me the room,
For I've only seen the door.

Show me the room where you traced, 

And retraced tender steps. 
Searching infinite soul for finite wisdom, 
Show me the room, 
For I've only seen the door. 

Show me the room where your dreams were made, 

The foundations laid, 
For you lived many lives before me. 
Show me the room, 

For I've only seen the door. 

Show me the room for I've clambered a view ,

Through distorted windows, 
Twisting panes; concealing their pains.

Show me the room,
For I've only seen the door. 

For though I assume to know you
That's merely because I love you
There's many lifetimes in each soul,
Most of which we'll never know. 

Show me the room, 
Let's open the door. 

Monday, 9 September 2013

The Connemara Mountains

Shadows chasing mountains,
Sweeping snatches of each moment. 
Of world embossed on world,  
As clouds flee the mighty skies.  
Fleeting and free and inextricably bound.
A panorama of stillness,
Only the lark ventures to speak,
 And her song the only sound 
Through silent stones and content souls.
Whispers of hopes and dreams, 
And of beliefs and doubts,
Honest trembling, whispering breeze,
Freshens face and heart. 

Shadows chasing mountains, 
Sweeping snatches of each moment.
Of all worlds in one world. 
And all dreams of one.
And the mouth speaks the language 
Purely transcribed from heart,
For stillness somehow echoes, 
And ventures into spirit. 
And the dreams awaken, 
Ancient as the rock, 
Renewed, reborn, reemerging,
Their realising not so far.