Dear Rosemary,
Your scent is so lovely;
Piney and fresh
I want to mesh
Your menth with mine,
You taste really divine 
With lamb, red wine and more
You linger in my garden galore.

Why have I been so afraid of being me?
Is it because I really couldn’t see the reality of the truth, the promise, and the hope flowing free?
Why did I close my eyes and my heart from thee; to truly free see,
The pure delight intrinsically, within, rather than embracingly, love and choosing to be happy?
What a waste; the years of lies I have believed,
But now, I want to be revolutionary, flee harmful untruths and start a new journey...
towards the promise of joyful harmony.

Mornings are a sacred time
For me.
It's the time I'm most vulnerable
Raw and rare.
It’s the time I seek God,
And speak to Him face-to-face.
It's the time when I hold His hand
And He leads me back
To the Garden,
Free to be seen.

Safe and sound,
As the night spun around.
Safe and sound,
Tucked in bed, love all around.
Safe and sound,
Your little head in the cloud.
Safe and sound,
You can dream and scream aloud.
Safe and sound,
Turn around, cos the boogie man's only in your mind.
You're safe and sound.

Our daily prayers,
Are in fact ‘dares’
That we would dare to approach God
With our earthly needs;
For more:
More money,
To buy
More clothes, shoes, bags,
Technologies, TVs, devices, gadgets
Properties that we can conquer too;
People.

How scandalous are our prayers —

is it curious that we spare our souls
through poetry,
but remain closed books to our "family"?

Our days are but grains of sand
Some more significant
But all secure, set apart, grand
In the eyes of those who matter

Love each day
Full of life-giving breaths
Embrace the exquisite play
Of life, even now.

Take in,
The seed of hope before my eyes,
Widening, new life-filled lungs sigh.

We transition in-and-out of moments;
In and out of life,
In and out of lives.

Sometimes, we transition with ease,
With poise,
With grace.

Sometimes, we transition with wounds;
Defences up —
And ready to attack before they hurt you back.

I am scared right now,
And my defences are wall high;
Self-imprisonment —
So that I don't get hurt,
But I'm hurting in here, all alone.

I found myself, this morning,
Participating in a ‘new’ sport.
Though timeless, reaching back to my youth.
As the days curb closer, the end of the year nears,
So do the shadows stretch out before me.
Chasing shade spots, as I pounded the pavement,
trying to hide from the sun, which was already 
shooting shards of heat and demanding her dominance.
Shade then became God’s grace revealed.

Shame...
Makes me want to hide.
Pull the covers up,
Remain inside.

Shame...
Muddies the water,
Robs me from being authentically me;
Bona fide, don't falter.

Shame…
Distorts reality,
But it's banality, so
Relax the hyper-vigilanty.

Shame…
Is like two *******,
Whispering about my defects
Keeping me in stitches.

Shame…
Is an unwanted cloak
That I'm taking off now,
To live, bespoke!

Opportunity after opportunity
some could say leads to discontinuity
or spontaneity?
Can it lead to deity?
Frailty surely will come
But we can spark that with
originality?
Frivolity can be a gateway,
To birthing new possibility.
Imagine the ingenuity!

Sparkle, little diamond,
Wipe the dust off and
Feel your infinite potential within.
Dormancy may have been your norm,
But no more!
Shine.

I've been cut —
Down on all sides.
I've been lashed —
From the pain within.
I've severed —
Head and heart,
To avoid any further future fracture,
You could say:
“I've been to hell and back!”
But, extraordinarily
A shoot of hope
Grows within,
And I will water wastefully
Because I am worth it!

When one quietens, life speaks.
In silence, the volume turns up on that which we are too busy to hear: birds bleeping, frogs frothing, lambs leaping and the wind whispering in our ears; the
Soul booms: remember me, I'm all you truly have
Listen.

To silence the chatter in one's head, one needs to watch it, listen to it, discern it, and master the response.

We all want to be seen and heard, but too many of us don't. As we chase that desire for attention, we forget and miss the need to see someone else.

Busyness has become the currency of this day. "Are you as busy as I?', screams our social media posts. We yearn to be valued and significant to someone else. So much so that we will devalue ourselves and gain our desired attention.

Does that sound familiar?

Of course, others don't have that same craving. But they have other cravings. I think it was St Augustine who said we have a heart-shaped hole/wound within; aching to be filled. And in our haste and uncomfortableness to sit with that ache, we stuff it, numb it, ignore it with stuff that distracts the call to seek our maker. 

But what we need is to accept God's love. Not the duties. Not the need to 'be good' but the call to be loved.

smoke
from a nearby chimney
subliminally
merged with the fog that spoke covering
like protection
but indeed looked like
silencing screams from the wild.

Do you stop and take notice —
Of the sirens wailing in the background?

Wonder…what trouble has been seized,
A damsel relieved, or a criminal taken to jail?

Do you hear the sirens of trouble?
Or celebrate justice received?

I have a seat at the table,
I will feast til I'm unable!

From the alarm to Instagram, FB, TikTok and beyond…

The external world is screaming:
Watch me! Follow me! I’ll show you where you belong!
We’ve been led, by the piper, into 'other' consciousness,
Happily, we submit to its authority
Because this world is too much.

We stuff every gap, every silence with ******-fanatic thoughts, slap!
Running further from our true selves
How did we get swallowed in this chasm of chants;
That said we are not enough?

It’s time to do something revolutionary!
It’s time to sit in silence;
Befriend the bewildering quietness,
And accept with loving kindness.

I have never
ever been a skylarker,
have you?
I think it would take
a bit of engineering
to come up with a gimmick or two.
I believe the term, rather, is skylarking
but I wonder if it can become a title too?
Or a role,
like the Joker or the Prankster
or is it just whimsical fun?
requiring no skill or gumption.

It prompts me to ponder
alternate universes
or realities;
other paths
my life could have taken —

Would I have been
wonder woman
wild on a stand-up stage?

A doctor,
or a nurse?
Breaking off death's curse!

Could I have been
a circus performer
Or would that have
concluded in a hearse?

I will stick, for now,
with poetry, and prayers,
and promises of life beyond how —
that's a trick worth playing!

Too much in our bellies, too much in our hearts,
We spew out hateful words, crying from our disenfranchised parts; our families, the world inside and out,
All need peace and strength to fight
The war outside, rather than focus all attention on the war inside.

It's soooooooooo
cold,
You could snap my toes off 
Like mould,
In  buildings old,
Where erry ghost stories
Will be told…

It's been snowing last
Night, golden leaves of Autumn
Cover the once-green grass,
Hiding the Summer days.
Button-up, little lady,
It is time to go into hiding.

Do we all need a season,
Of hiding? Cocooning? Intimacy
With our Creator? To be remade without hesitation
A squall of geese squawks
Overhead, moving on...

With Mother Nature.

Slow us
Lord, that we watch our ways
And about turn
To Your face.

put the song on and dance,
let your hair down
throw your arms up
and dance. Feel the vibrations,
sensations revurberating,
through the trance
of life's circumstances.
Romance pulsates in the dance.

sorry, not sorry,
for being me.
despite the pains and trials,
there's no one else
I'd prefer to be.

I know my scars,
and idiosyncrasies,
they're frustrating
to no end,
but then, that's me.

a bee buzzes,
a scream shrills,
a horn honks,
but silence...
silence...
Silence sounds...
it's not the absence of sound
but much more,
more than I expected
in the lows of loss.
It's like waves...
clashes of particles in the air
and tumbling together
in a rush of fusion,
movement.
Silence is not...
lack,
but an abundance,
of more...
more possibilities,
new ways of hearing,
new ways of feeling...
being...
MORE.

Speak Lord, I'm listening,
lavish me with your jewels:
Grace, gentleness and patience
Are like ravishing red rubies and pearls,
Their wellspring is forever refreshing.

Sporting spotty socks,
would not seem that obscene,
but under a pristine cream suit
they poke fun at the ‘proper '”
at the crème De la crème.

Maybe that’s the theme of my curly locks;
Subverting the straight-jacketing of everyday life?!

*****,
Is not a word
That I've heard in a while —
I used to hear it all the time
As a child;
I was spunky,
A spunkster,
Spunkalicious!
And all these terms of endearment
Made me feel warm inside.
It was only later, much later,
When I was more mature
That I discovered what the term really meant…
Which made me rethink all those childhood memories in a new light —

the grass,
ghostly white,
snaps as I tred upon
it and the remnants, aghast,
yesterday's memories
lay frozen in time 'neath
my feet that live steadfastly.

It always feels
forever out of reach;
the finish line,
that momentous victory speech.

Stillness is where it all begins,
In quietness and rest, you will gain life again.
Releasing and trusting is where it continues.
In standing, with arms wide open,
In outstretching hands,
In exhaling,
In breathing,
In being,
In.
Be.

Sprout of a leaf,
listen--
a thousand wings of applause
shatter the quiet,
rising like storm breakers.

Brews and beats,
Dogs, with owners, walking the streets,
As locals taste the treats.
From farmers,
Butchers and bakers,
Tunes float above the crepe eaters.

Over the years, I’d built myself up;
Propped with awards, opportunities, degrees, and jobs atop of my growing ego: self-reliant, self-determined
And that’s all well and good. Most of us live like this,
Some say we should.

But when disaster happens, as it often does,
We may splutter and curse, or we may choose,
to lean in, to the painful transfiguration that undoes you loose,
That leaves you fragile, undifferentiated and barely there.
But it also brings unexpected delights:
Your frights addressed, and your faith ascends new heights,
And you are rebuilt with new might,

You stand again, but this time propped up with strength unseen.
As I now stand, I know I stand alone, but with a community within,
Solid more, deeper resources help me lift my chin,
Newer insights that remind me that I’m akin,
So, I stand firm, watch and learn.

The journey continues: new horizons await.

Being me — 
Truly me, flaws and all — 
Glory and all — 
Opening my eyes to see.

Accepting: exquisitely me — 
Yet filled with sin — 
Not holding back, but fully accepting — 
Having a measured conceptual aid; see — 

Forward-thinking, but living now — 
Grateful breathing — 
Cheekily teasing — 
Knowing the past; living in the now.

Kaleidoscope of moments — 
Divine yet, still fall short — 
Seek The Source, by whom our heart is fraught —
Community, not nomads.

Sunrise, breaking
Is like a distant friend
Returning
From a long sojourn.

The first one whom we compare,
That can drive apart the bond we despair
Until we admit we truly care
We’re as separate as the endless stare:
At her hair, height, weight and flare,
Compassion frees us, so we can truly share
The life we’re born to live, she with me, here.

Take a walk with me,
Come, let’s go,
Let’s fly away or bunker down low.
Don’t prepare, let your instincts lead and see.

Do you notice the streetscape?
Or do you look at me?
There’s the trees and the bees, mums and bubs on bended knees,
Plenty of amazing jewels leaving your mouth agape.

Memories fill our hearts with love,
Risky moments, tender moments, 
Slow moments, fast and fun moments,
Lifetime of treasures; mine, that fit like a glove.

We can’t toss them aside,
We can’t escape their joy or pain,
But we can let them be, washed away by rain,
Or liberated by the sun, whatever...don’t hide.

Live in this moment.
Not a moment too soon, or
Too late...act now! You’ll swoon ;p
It may not bring fortune, but atonement?!

Take down the constructs,
Tear down the precepts,
Tie down the lies.
To
Embrace love,
Engage curiosity,
Enlarge.