Beneath my monster home
The jackrabbit was running.  There was a fox on her tail.  She was old and feeble and wise.

The rabbit, maimed, lay in a cranny, in the autumn leaves.  She sank way down as she smelt the wild flowers, and the light faded out of her eyes.  Her body decomposed into the forest floor that winter.  And the world span on within her.


Hello mummy.
The earth is blown away from me.
How can one be alone in a crowd of friends?
The dark between the trees is calling me.
I was deafened by the screaming
From the Mountain of Murdered Timber.
I was scared because it was on the moon.
When I am swimming I recall my birth
The noises are gone.
Sometimes at home my ears are sore from
all of the noise.  And I just want to come here.
Where are you? In the wind?
Why are you in the wind
When you should be here with me?
I will try anything twice.
What if something is slightly sour
the first time I die?
Were you given a second try?
I remember you.
Your smile as much as your evil eye.
How can one be alone in a crowd of friends
Yet feel at home in the memories of them.
And in my memories of you I feel alone and scared.

    I see her in the sunshine
    I see her in my dreams
    I see her in the moonlight
    She is brighter than it seems.

    In the darkly distant future
    In the all too present past
    I can formulate a phrase of love
    So fresh, so far, so fast.

    So pleasant to be near you
    With your trembling tender breath
    With your arms encased around me
    With your clothes of bleeding death.

    Don’t corner me with your sarcasm
    Just float me freely by
    A paper boat in the stream of taste
    Of sight…of smell….good-bye.

For Shona, #1
If Shona ever leaves me,
If Shona ever dies
I will move to the wild
Just to remember Shona’s eyes.

She wants to be a cloud
Floating free of ties
With the wind blowing strongly
With the wind only sighs.

For Shona, #2
She sits in the train leaving time behind.
She is happy she is sad, I wish to know what
She is thinking.
Her dreams are colourful
And flowers bloom for her at the feet of reality.
She is a bird perched in the highest tree.
She is singing to the tunes of the wind in her ears.
She is swaying with the rhythm of the earth.
Her heart beats in time with the hum of life.
She laughs like a river in springtime
She is sad like a rainstorm at night.
She is the loon who cries out at the sunrise
Because she sees its beauty mirrored in her soul.
She is but a cloud in the sky
That billows and is blown.
She is floating freely, watching the land below
Loving everything she sees,
Loving us.

For Shona, # 3
There is a place where I can always go
There is a rock in the woods.
It lies open to the sky and
Is witness to volumes of secrets of the wild.
Slowly, the rock melts into  a running river
That gurgles and laughs
It jumps and splashes,
If you follow it you will see it empties
It empties into a pool.
A lake that is serene and calm
The wind may blow and the ripples sparkle rainbows.
The clouds are mirrored in it perfectly
Soon the lake becomes a cloud in the sky
It billows and blows;
Floating slowly, looking over all the land below
Loving everything it sees.

            Can you feel the rhythm of  the earth?
            There is something in the closeness of the trees.
            It could be someone speaking
            Telling us volumes of wisdom  in the clouds and the sky.
            Sending us energy that makes us run
            Verifying life.

Join me
Come, slowly join me as we open our eyes.
There is a crystal blue sky
And a fathomless deep night
The stars have been beckoning for so long.
We, are starting to awaken.
Let yourself open. It seems difficult — I know.
But join me as we embark on this new adventure.

I am learning, I am seeking.
We will feel and know, someday we may even
gain peace.
Feel the strength within yourself.
Believe in it, for you are ready.
You are not alone, we will all join hands.
It seems strange that this dawning
Would come at the end of an era.
But, let us not try to understand yet.
Let us only experience.

Feel what you may, be it freezing or heat,
Be it courage or fright.
It may seem scary — I know.
What you feel is never wrong.
Be kind and forgiving to your self.

Our metamorphosis is occurring at last.
We should have paid closer attention to the butterfly.
So strange a process, yet so fast,
So inexplicably beautiful.

Hold my hand.
One by one we open our eyes.
And do not be afraid for wherever these tides may take us,
There is always, always love to uphold us.