A Prayer For The Living, And Beyond

For my grandfathers who dream the sky
For my grandmothers who sing the planets
For my children who dance the waters
For my people who speak the rain

To my tired fathers I wish you rest
To my distant mothers I send you love
To my restless brothers I bring you peace
To my gentle sisters I give you courage

I remember and give thanks for you
I send prayers to encourage you
I ask to be remembered by you
From all that is painful I release you

For all of us I remember you
From all of us I bless you
From all of us I honour you
For all of us I remember you

20.3.2004

Tears In The Sun

Today we are silenced.
Muted by the black tide
flowing from our darkest fears.

Shaken by violent instruction,
we watch our own tears on television
as the lucky search for the unlucky.

Today we are silenced.
There are no words
for this much water.


Tsunami Japan
11.03.11

The Multiples of Harrison

North and South circled each other
in Edinburgh's ancient arms,
whispered deep underwater
and a promise was fulfilled.

Spirit breathes through wet forests,
tiny bare feet flex and curl.
Quiet starlight finds a young
sword in the land of warriors.

Shaped from one seed of The Truth
carried in waters of love:
The pure blood of a man-child,
potential of a tiger.

Molecules reverberate
and the next layer of soul
invites us to the banquet.
Smiles a treasure of secrets.

Perfectly delicate waves,
patterned sands of soft delight.
Mystery becomes a gift.
Consciousness wears a new face.


with love for my god-son, Harrison
September 9th 2010

Three Stones

I have three stones
in my pocket.

One is smooth, cool and wet,
and smells like the sea.
I call it Memory.

Another is like the sun,
pregnant with starlight.
It's name is Intention.

The third is earth red,
with black veins like magma rock.
It is Desire.

I take these three
wherever I go.

She

She does not know
in the softest of ways.

In the way of a child who
does not understand diamonds.
She has not found that
aperture of light.

Has not learned to read the looks
or catch her truth in mirrors...
in the playings of light.
She stands beside herself.

In the most innocent of ways,
so quiet she's all there is:
Has not realized her eyes
look like soul.

In the barefoot path
of an uncrowned queen.
In the way a gentle breeze
only whispers the storm.

In the softest of ways
she does not yet know
that she is beautiful.

Night

Diameter of the soul:
Religion of solitude,
worship of emptiness,
the first consciousness.

Perfect ocean of silence:
Under you we stand naked,
sheltered from the light,
breathless,
and yet the deepest breath.

Dark animal full of memories:
Vast amphitheatre of stories,
wait impassive in the stars,
like molluscs attached to rocks.

Collective weight of atoms:
Carry deep wine of conversations,
slow names and vibrations from,
the wavelengths of dreams.

Breathing Music

When there is nothing left to prove,
no more tests to pass.
When the need for questions ends,
and the substance is all the same.
When we all stand in the centre,
and the centre flows through all.
When we see each clearly,
and there is rest for everyone.

We are forgiven.

Primal Self III

There is something in me.
Something wild that wants to burrow holes in the earth.
Something that wants to dive into deep pools of ocean light.
It wants to wrestle bears and chew on roots.
Sit naked in the dirt and speak with the wind.
Something more instinct than man.

Under the Radar

Radioactive
bushman enacted
palpitations
bushdance imagined
Inside underworld
animals call to us
heavy metal and brown powder dust
your mother's child walks the earth
a gaping shadow becomes a star and
Godliness comes in short breaths
wakefulness seems like a dream
until you return from what you've seen
a wild man for a bit of time
plunged into eternity.

                                                                                            For Gordon, war in Burundi