Poems: Hiraeth & Home

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Plant a thousand memories,
let them birth alone,
thrive in deepest darkness,
delve through mind and soul.

And when the days are spent,
let them break asunder,
bounce through sudden dreams,
wake the hidden world.

So the way leads ever on,
when the hours are sent,
holding to the spirit’s course;
all is recompense.


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Bridge of will

Saturday, October 15, 2016


Needles threading
slow through love,
trip of life does trim,
and fill, embroiders
view of mist and trail;
colours breeze so still.
Sky does sob in
sympathy as the work
is done, washes clean
the soil, makes
a bridge of will.


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Lies, legs and liasons

One of the troubling trends which seems to be at work in the world, the First World anyway, but perhaps it is universal, is the tendency to seek to deny inconvenient truths which inject levels of reality into belief systems.
We can of course deny inconvenient truths but is that wise, healthy or responsible for our children?
As an example, a couple have a child born without legs, or perhaps with one leg. Would it be healthy for them to deny that human beings are generally born with two legs and being without one or both, is more challenging and will have impacts which those born fully formed will not have?
Should they say to the child: There is no difference between you and the other child with two legs, or, if the deformed child, for deformed it is, receives prostheses so some function is possible, should they say to the child with its artificial legs: There is no difference at all between you and children who have been born with legs?
I don’t think so. A wise parent would talk to the child about the challenges brought by the difference and seek to help the child to compensate for the disadvantage and to strive DESPITE the loss of one or both healthy legs which human beings normally possess.
Any parent foolish enough to try to pretend that the legless child was no different to the one with legs, would be seen by their child as dishonest, stupid or both.
And yet that is the position which some, one might argue, too many, take in regard to same-sex marriage, where, despite the biological reality that no human being has ever, can ever or will ever exist without a mother and a father, a male and a female, we are meant to pretend that two males as parents or two females as parents are not at all different to a male and a female as parents, when, patently they are.
I am not talking about how people dress, or cultural expressions of maleness and femaleness, but the innate biological differences between a man and a woman, something no-one born as one gender, can manufacture or manifest as the other.
Two men in a relationship may be loving, responsible and wonderful parents, as may two women in a relationship but the relationship will be between two men or two women and not between the biological norm, a man and a woman and therefore cannot offer the natural parental gender mix.
A child denied the reality and truth of one gender parent is being told a lie, akin to that of the legless child, that there is no difference being born with two legs or no legs when of course there is.
No-one disputes the fact that two men or two women can bring up a child well, but if they deny the right of the child to a surrogate gender parent for the one that is missing, or try to pretend that two fathers or two mothers equal a father and a mother, then they are building a relationship on lies and delusion.
And that is why, whatever changes are made to the Marriage Act, it must enshrine the reality that every single one of us has a biological mother and a father in our lives and has a right to those roles in our upbringing. Not only that, we have evolved throughout human evolution being brought up by members of both sexes even if we were not raised by our biological parents, and that gender mix is a crucial part of our mental, emotional and physical health.
It is not the same being born without legs as it is being born with legs and it is not the same being raised by two men or two women as it is being raised by a man and a woman. When we start pretending that it is for the sake of political correctness we become fools and liars.
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Grey, brooding, unconscionable clouds,

Sodden, weeping, teething winds,

So does Spring spit irritably in our face;

Drenching still the skirts of fallen Winter.

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No more

No more than a speck of dust upon the fleeing moment,

No more than a silent breath upon the wind,

No more than a forgotten seed that breasts the unforgiving earth,

No more than all the words that lie unsaid.


For this is life, and this is how the moments draw and creep,

When hope and meaning hide themselves away,

And dare to taunt that all is nought but shadow,

That who I am is fantasy and dream.


And yet each speck of dust is borne on dreams,

And silent breaths can carry words across the world,

While seeds that strive through soil to reach the sun

Will always speak of God, of life, of love.


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The split in Self is seen so clear,

And yet recoils in mortal fear

From any touch that seeks to bring

A healing to the wound within.

Twixt good and bad the players set

And rise to make their triumph, yet,

A tiny voice keeps up the cry

That truth is found within the I.

So peace and wisdom, love and truth

Stand on one side, placed well aloof

And rage, and vengeance, basest thought

Will hold their ground, no matter what.

The ‘I’ rides grace and then will leap

The fence to fly upon deceit

And all the while knows neither can

Hold sure, swift hoof on flimsy ground.

That day will come when each will find

Then disappear in new-born mind,

And truth of each is made anew,

The ‘I’ becomes, eternal ‘You.’

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