Emotional to the point of rationality
Pass through, as ease to some it seems
and loss-release of lives lived hardly
in search instead of softness.
Forth from softness only love may spring
grounding tender darling dreams
where scars guard wounds from rupturing themselves
gushing inward, streams of being
stitching marks unhurt
and born of boundlessness and trust.
We die with nature
some of us cry with nature
others look away, frantic
achieving the useless
in the fact of death.
We die with nature
goodbye Mother
let me lay on you one last time
as we die together
forgive me
Mother
forgive me.
Wild flowers out finding
space in cracked concrete,
taken by running
hot then wet torrents
through people so tender
sunned back to life from
winter caked in the heart.
Summer of love
with strangers’ smiles beaming
back
heart’s open feeling
love and desire
out
spilling and healing.
Seeds of wild flowers
the nights dancing sowing
coming to life in intensities filling
breathing life-love
in blood winter still holding
breath in two chests
by wild winds caressing
moving it warm
to hearts that crave pulsing
the flowering hearts of two wild ones so found.
A caged heart once
forgot how to love
loosing its skill under
thought, distance and time.
Who and what deserves love?
The world is hardly the place for a person with principles;
an environment where the ugly proliferates
and acts of kindness and love are treated as risk
but no risk is seen in losing love,
the lifeblood of the world I want to see.
Love lives deep in our being
so deep in fact our surface stiffens
– use it or lose it –
and lost it we have to calculating minds
which sever mind from heart
and elevate mind beyond recognition
in a world that needs heart to survive.
We claim that love comes,
treating it as granted inevitability
when in fact love is a practice;
to be practiced in each gesture,
word and the treatment of others.
We are trapped because our love is trapped
in structures that tell us
how to love one another,
who to love, when to love, for how long
what appropriate love is and what isn’t
and where love belongs.
Everywhere!
At home, in the street, in school and at work
(did you recoil when you read this?)
(did you recoil at my image of love which differs
from the twisted idea of patriarchally sexualised love
which we hold as the only Love?)
We must un-twist love,
reshape and form ourselves to its untwisting
so it may flow through us,
– the great torrent –
which flows through each of us
should we permit it.
I found myself in the love you
would not give me;
like the smallest bird on the branch
which only sings its vast song
if left unobserved.
My heart is not with me.
It is out there, somewhere, with you.
It wants to break out, be free but
it stays out there, somewhere, with you.
Ensnared by your eyes,
the smile and glimmer they shine when upon me.
Release me, free me,
return my heart to me.
I cannot continue to live with
a heart that’s not with me.
I need my heart here beside me.
I need it restored, from doubtful thoughts drawn.
My heart is not with me.
It is out there, somewhere, with you.
Release me, free me,
return my heart to me.
Notes From Afar 