HIDDEN

Hidden
Are the true gems
Shrouded in mystery
Their light changing in each moment
Awestruck
We bend
Bow to the mystery drawing
Us into its centre
Though we are lost
We’re found

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LOSING IT

I think I’m losing it,
My mind, my heart, my brain,
I think I’m losing it,
Too long trying,
Too long aching,
Too long in a wirkd
Where I no longer fit,
A world that I cannot share,
A world that only I inhabit,
I think I’m losing it,
Even that which I cannot share,
I’m losing it,
The dark swallows me up,
I swallow,
The rising pain,
The rising scream,
The rising fear,
For if it came out,
I might just die

HOMESICK

It’s like I’m in a different world
Homesick, lonely, aching,
The world goes on, without me,
I lie here, not even able to imagine any more, paralysed in my mind,
Hopeless, helpless,
Watching you playing, with the eyes of my heart,
I live in the past now, remembering,
But even the remembering hurts,
Perhaps I had better not remember,
For then I was part of something,
Now I am not,
Then I could relate,
Now I can’t,
I read your words, see your world, hear your moans,
With envy, jealousy, disdain,
For you cannot taste my food,
My banquet,
We cannot share, pass the cakes, the cruets,
No seasoning can blend our lives into a world of taste, and sound, and sight,
I am forever lonely,
I was once like you

MARY

Woman
Are you silent now,
Pondering things in your heart?
It is the way of things,
Carrying so much,
Not just the child,
But all that is to be born from you,
As you stand waiting,
In silence,
There is within a fluttering,
That turns into a Dance,
Yet your silence knows
That one day will be born
A child with a Cross in His hands,
Too heavy in time to carry,
You watch Him stumble and fall,
And only you
Can help Him to carry it now,
Within your womb,
Knowing that even as
He is placed on that Cross,
His Spirit will dance
Through His suffering
Transforming the pain
Of the whole wide world

ASH

Sometimes, in our desert experiences, we feel that all is lost, all is gone and there is no hope left. How can we pick up ash? The ash of our lives. When I went blind, and became wheelchair bound following my cancer, unable to use touch to feel for things as bot my hands and my feet lost all feeling, it would have been easy to think that my life was finished. Over. And indeed, the temptation was there to lose hope. But, as a child, I had learned to SING. In the most painful, difficult and fearful of circumstances, I would SING. This next poem is about just this:-

I looked round today and
all I saw was ash,
The ash of my life, spent,
The flame gone out, dead dreams on the ground in rubble.

The scene was bleak, my eyes
Beheld no beauty,
All was ugly, spent now,
I stood there stripped, knowing I could not pick up ash.

Dreams disintegrated,
Hope gone for ever,
Nothing to re-ignite,
Barrenness was my empty companion today.

But suddenly I heard
A voice, saying “Sing,”
What song could I sing now,
Here in this strangest of strange lands, alien now?

The voice insisted, “Sing”
I opened my mouth,
But no sound would come out,
“ Tell me how to sing,”
“Caged birds can sing, but you don’t have a cage, just sing.”

I looked around again,
I couldn’t see ash,
I saw the makings of
A new world, building bricks,
Beauty from ashes, I opened my mouth and sang.

WAITING

I lie here dressed only in my skin,
Stripped bare, inglorious, colourless,
Just like the tree,
All that once I knew,
All that once I displayed,
Gone,
Gone for ever,
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust………
……….But wait,
Inside me the sap,
It rests,
In my roots,
Safe from the cold winds of winter,
Safe from the storms,
Waiting to rise up
When the storms have passed,
No, I am not dead,
Just waiting.