Every musician that strives to create the perfect symphony is an apprentice to the tiny nightingale. Every disciplined ballerina is an apprentice to the wind and to that which man calls nature, and so is every poet a student to the perfect word. Yet everything and everyone are the followers of silence. These words are from a place found between the words and therefore not subject to the meter or formulae of man.
They are as they are.
Meet these words and the spaces between the words, as you would a stranger, meet them for the very first time. If they are not known to you, let them wait a while at the door of consciousness. Then welcome them in as you would a friend, invite the stranger in that you may join with them and they with you. If still you do not recognise them, send them on their way, or better still, go follow them.
Hello my silent friend
I wonder what has bound you
Made you mute and clipped your wings?
Surrender your chains
And in exchange
I’ll wrap you round in swathes of silk
To hold you fast
To heal and protect
To keep you safe but let you grow
When all that is
Is not
And everything that is not
Appears to be
I’d rather have less of what I want
Than everything of what I do not need
Oh tainted thing, you were once the soft and luscious leaf of green, gorging temptress sitting high upon the pedestal of tree. You held a high and mighty place and looked out above the lowly things. Yet remember you flew and fled and lie upon the ground, the hardened ground were the least be found. No more the luscious green, your body wraps and curls as the brown and tainted thing spreads your self, you denied it’s truth. Soon the earth shall claim you.
….and as the traveller passes he looks up to the sky and to the dancing leaves upon the tree and he says to the heavens ‘teach me, tell me of the truth’ yet know not he the ground he stands on is but holy ground. The answers he searches are trembling beneath his feet…. whispering “once upon a day did I dance upon a tree, once upon a morn I watched and fed upon the sun, once upon a morn I looked out to the world and longed only to be a little bit higher, a little bit closer to the source, yet now I lay upon the earth, that which stands the tree, that which holds the water of life and because now I know must I be hid, must I be taken for fear a man shall know and rip up the tree, for it is only when a thing lays silently within the arms of the earth shall it understand, shall it see, shall it truly dance”.
That luscious rose just a few feet away
Yet I passed it by each and many day.
I lie and wait your visit.
I long your tender tears to drop and endlessly break free.
I instruct and demand the universe with pull and play
To draw that salted drop of life to me.
Just to connect with that which I so often did not see.
Lift this weight of soil and stone, that suffocates this man, but wont.
Break me free from wood and dress.
Day or night it’s all a dark blackness here
The stale air keeps coming and never is there any less.
An eerie silence I know fills that graveyard up above.
And when you come they come to comfort you and to make you leave.
Stay please just a second longer. I hear your words.
Drop you that final kiss and I will reach it with my clasping stagnant hands of bone.
Oh to hold you now or to feel the wind.
I long the snail and slug and inevitability to come.
A million years upon each second as time drools its way
I cannot force my head to explode, though I try.
Another crunched up, cold, dark, endless day.
I scream to the world with all that’s left,
Yet the ant screams louder than I .
I thump and batter the sides of the coffin, my prison.
How shall I die? How can I die?
I hear your softness call my name.
Go home you say, we shall meet some day.
I close my eyes and give up the fight
I shall be here for two million years.
It’s all ok. I am here but you are there.
I much rather it be this way.
Go my love and dance with the sun.
Then suddenly within an instance and yet not timed
The sun it broke the ground, unrhymed
Its ray stabbed my heart, but with joy
The universe swung me as a toy.
I cared not where or what it did, to move and feel and sway and swap
It elevated me straight to the very top
I watched you cry and laugh broke out.
I seen the tears and wondered what that’s about.
Why you looking for me down there?
Don’t waste your breath or give a care
For I am here in simple bliss
No permits, or remarked remiss.
A simple thing stopped me rotting
I realised simply,
I know nothing. ∞
For once there was a perfect time, filled with perfect, in perfect rhyme.
The laze of man, of thing and things and all the emptiness that human brings
Met with perfect, at the door, dropped it’s bag and cried no more.
Yet human man he soon forgot, built his castle, learned to rot.
Forgot that perfect, held his hand, tolled the roads, ploughed the land.
Then one day when man was old, a moment touched, a silence hold.
Of a perfect day, not noticed then, cared then less, cared not again.
It’s that call that calls him now.
Frets the beads, upon his brow.
For….
…….perfect came and perfect went
A perfect moment, no man has spent
For perfect is as perfect be, perfect touch, as perfect see.
Yes perfect called, this man missed thee
For perfect shouts, so silently.
Perfect kissed with perfect breath
Then perfect looked,
Then perfect,
left.∞
Read by the author
Credits: poem @ justme; Image: CatrinPhoto; All rights reserved.
Our Father, mother, God, creator of everything.
Who art perfectness
Hallowed be thy name
Thy kingdom be realised and experienced
On earth through humanity, as is our spirit
Give us this day our daily task because there is only this day
Forgive us for not understanding because it is through understanding and forgiveness we are forgiven and understood
Lead us not into temptation because thou could not, else thou would not be a God of love.
Deliver us home through grace
That we may live.
Amen
Now close thy eyes and go nowhere, sense the air caress your hair
Feel the movement of thy breath, fear not life, fear not death.
The past is lost the future gone, in this moment now you belong.
It is within this moment that the moment is held
It is not what is done, moved or yelled.
It is the moment itself which holds the space
A silent moment filled with grace.
Catch a breath, thundering bliss, give your thoughts a passive miss
Lay you quiet upon this silent wind, for truly thou have never sinned
Submerge and melt, surrender every cell, sincere and heartfelt, just in quietness…
now ye dwell.
All the moments that ever were, all the moments still to share.
Let the earth just be.
For within this moment
God meets thee.
Just Poems 