The Flood

They’ve taken down the
shining light, and the
river, has returned to its

blackened, hidden self.

In that place of dreams,

night beds down, slow

forgetting tides and flow,

calling to the darkness,

arched as innocent surrender,

true to sightless possibility,

nothing seen, just imagined,

sounds of suckling mud,

as it flows, out of sight,

drifting in that sure way

of pure, and endless being,

as I step into the dream and

have no questions, for all

may yet be made ready,

for the chill kiss of dawn,

revealing what has been

born in ebony caverns, those

ephemeral figures creep,

drawn from Akashic realms,

dipping trailing fingers

into the wash of waves;

allowing the drown of

becoming, to release,

bequeath, unknown treasures.

‘What have you found?’

The voice rides liquid crests,

somnolent, searching, sighing,

at the breast of Soul; in

deliquescent dressing drench

of formless, rich potential.

‘I found myself,’ even though

I had not known I was lost.

Evening moon glittering

on strewn harvest of

luscious river weeds, torn

from their beds, and shaken

across the flooded earth,

dressing muddy realms, in

stalk, leaf and frond of now

slow rotting death and life.

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The End

Seconds break from ocean of time,
sculling through foaming minutes,
dragging waves of sodden hours,
thundering into dropped days as

they wash upon life’s sandy feet;
crumbled careering of bubbled
beginnings, and frothing ends,
those months, years and decades

which sluice our hearts from birth
unto death, as seabirds scree and
sing above, darting through puff
of cloud and curious wind, in that

dance of life which has no end,
and yet which, in truth, has never
begun, for all is caught: an eternity
of bright and shining imagination.

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Bend

Bend the scent of sanity,

stitch the sail of time,

surrender the archaic;

trip the soul sublime.

Scan the vivid moment,

heat the pot of joy,

slice the sliver carefully;

cherish life as toy.

Follow in the calling,

let the hours shine,

all is an experiment;

God’s world so divine.

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Bend

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Bend the scent of sanity,
stitch the sail of time,
surrender the archaic;
trip the soul sublime.

Scan the vivid moment,
heat the pot of joy,
slice the sliver carefully;
cherish life as toy.

Follow in the calling,
let the hours shine,
all is an experiment;
God’s world so divine.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2017/07/29/wordle-310/

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Rain

Rain roils like fire in flaming torrents,

sucking in the air, devouring vision,

thundering crackle, consuming distance,

sodden smoking of nature’s breath;

so do the heavens serenade the sighing

soil, drenching barren fear, sluicing

away the doubts of dying season, in

unexpected baring of glistening teeth,

lined at Winter’s long-dried mouth,

where voice of hope had been silenced,

flattened by dry, hard days and thirsty

nights, not even a sigh of dusty words,

as time surrendered to the certainty

of hopelessness, of looming death,

of crackled steps, wasted growth; until

that sudden moment when Life laughed

at Death, in glorious watered smile.

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Word

The words contain the images,
of memories profound, slow
written through the pages
which life bestows around,

the separating minutes, the
seconds in slow drip, divided
into days then months, as fallow
years do slip; forgetting all

the dreams, and moments lost
in sleep, as if they never were,
as if the angels keep, our very
self and being, in places surely

hid, so do we make our way
through time, so do we ride
the grid, of this pure place
of being, of this material

world, of flesh and bone and
exile, of hopes and loss, full
hurled, into the whirling
firmament, into the stream

of time, which Soul requires
to find itself, bestowed on
us as Mind. So does the dance
begin and end as Word;

we creatures so defined.

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Hooded

Hooded self describing,
huddled on cold shores,
dark horizon distant;
pebbled mind perforce.

Twinned in all displacing,
gripped by fevered hand,
bird of grief defacing;
silently we stand.

So my alter ego calls,
draws soul to her side,
lures me to water’s edge;
catch the morning tide.

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