Thursday 17 November 2011

Unseen Hands


A purple sock on a picket fence
caught my eye walking by.
Further on a jacket lay                  
twice folded over on a step.

Hands unseen, unknown, unasked for
stopped, reached down
and touched with care
garments worn on strangers' bodies.

In these days of falling leaves,
waning light and cooler air,
love is seen through tumbled jackets.

Friday 11 November 2011

Sleeping

a grey heron sleeps
solitaire and motionless
in the rising tide

Could I trust this way of living



Could I trust this way of living
leaning into spacious vastness
going forward never backward
weeping leaping laughing freely?

What holds me from this moment daring
holds me back from riding barreling
across my day with wild abandonment
holding grabbing onto nothing?

Could I trust this way of living
diving headlong into nothing
falling deep into embracing
holding nothing back but loving?

Call me, call me, loudly, fiercely
never never let me be
‘till I leap and yield to wildness
falling deeply into thee.



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