Feet

I first emerged into the moors and woodland.

It is there that I found words and uses for my limbs, among rolling hills and patchwork fields,

Lush, beneath a somewhat dingy grey.

My feet grow. They tread further.

Soaking, they stand beneath turbulent skies, waves crashing against rocky shorelines.

Cobbled streets become familiar beneath their soles.

Drenched socks cling and chafe.

Forlornly, footsteps retreat back.

Back to hedgerows of buzzing and darting

Occasional rays of bright, dazzling sun over bucolic horizons.

But feet must walk.

Into the cold they go, losing themselves beneath heavy snow falls.

Gliding across ice that has never felt the warmth of the sun’s rays.

They tingle back to life in front of crackling fires each evening,

Only to be numbed again when twilight dawns.

Frost-bitten but alive, footsteps retreat back.

Back to pinked skies as night descends,

Rocky outcrops littered with the leaves of autumn, blustering in the wind.

But feet must walk.

Scorched land turned to dust, oranges their soles.

Far beneath, water flows shyly.

It’s secret only revealed by the hummingbird and spider.

Sand gives too easily beneath each footfall.

Tracking waterways, they trail into a sticky heat,

To the scent of thick, damp life.

Mud parts uneasily between toes and lingers longer.

Spattered and scarred, footsteps retreat back.

Back to bubbling brooks dashing through shaded forests,

Wild garlic permeating the fresh, spring air.

But feet must walk.

Hot tarmac sizzles under noisy, choked skies

Howls and hoots torment, confusing direction.

Roots miss the earth, even as they tread along ancient stonework.

Released, footsteps retreat back.

Back to lazy rivers passing through tired hillsides.

Grazing sheep and walls that hold themselves.

But feet must walk.

And now they stand, chilled, between snow-topped goliaths.

Awed and delighted to challenge them,

Ripped free and embracing the sky.

But when they tire, the grassy stretches of Yorkshire will beckon,

And footsteps will retreat back.

Chasing it’s Tail

Waves roll in from the island,

Rocking our gentle boat.

It strains at the rope

As channels appear,

Fast track for shells and debris.

I turn over bottle fragements,

Sea smoothed after violent firing.

Nature grips discarded plastic,

Sprouts parasitic charms

Over the hull of the boat.

When a winkle looks my way,

I wonder which way

I would like to face.

Pointing upwards seems a tiring journey

And hard to maintain.

If life is a creature

With young legs at the front

And old legs at the back,

is it happy to chase

it’s tail in circles?

Life Cycle

We swim in silver, streaming, blooming

in winter light, shedding shells,

green and gold, breathing hard

through root and branch, cold air

gently buoying pollen to flowers,

cells dividing to slow maturity,

surfacing, gulping rain, born

of water, climbing through cares,

hands grasping, wings beating,

speaking with clumsy tongues,

facing the sun, fast and fertile,

young hearts racing away,

released, running, ripe and ready,

restlessly growing, forgetting home

as we fly, warm, moist and pulsing

into true forms, straight and strong,

swarming in cycles, dipping and dripping

with spent days, unchanging, but

decaying until we fall, flaming,

two thousand years and counting,

seeds scattering, breaking the surface,

diving deep, green and gold,

buoyed on hard, cold breath,

streaming, blooming, swimming in silver.

You
You were the one so entwined by your fate,
So bound by the errors of your ways.
So feed fears emotion with mindless devotion in your faith.

You were the one so pious and intent,
to scale the perpetual without relent.
So why can’t you face, this moment of grace,
Under the veil of the ethereal consciousness.

You were the one so illuminated,
Yet blind within the knowledge you praise.
This stoic vibration holds the key to revelation in time.

So now you,
Bathe within the aura so profound,
The singularity holds no bounds.
Its a conscious choice that gives you a voice,
To speak out loud the words ‘I Am’.

I channel my energy into beating drums
The nerves wash away
A magical force within me
Free, floating free, I’m focused
I try to relax and on occasion I do
But not for long, got to keep time
For now, I’m a clock tick tocking, tapping, knocking
Smashing whilst thrashing until, we stop.

We haven’t really stopped
We’re hurtling through space on a giant rock
Well not giant, it could be as small as a speck of dust
Even smaller
Such is the vastness of space

Keep traveling and unraveling your dreams
Find yourself
Love yourself
Be yourself

Time feels so at Home.