Thursday, 31 December 2015

31.12.15 New Years Eve 2015

There's 365 days in a year,
Split up into thousands of moments.
We stand at the end of another year,
Tracing broken mirror reflections.
Imperfect moments formed perfect whole,
It will soon be the past.
How we leave this year so very different,
Make resolutions for change that will last,
In shadows of golden connection.

There were things we needed to leave behind,
Our secret, silent soul twitches
Questioned ideas we'd carried to find
A new kind of self-acceptance.
We took up new things to build old dreams,
Healed old wounds to let light shine in.
Laughed and called out as stitch changed our seams
It all was flashes, it's all now gleams,
In shadows of golden connection.

There were times the world seemed to fall apart,
Our outraged calls for change to start
Up to a new place from old fears,
Of history's repetition slipping new years.
And now we're here, as the next chapter calls
Glistening tide of fresh new beginnings,
We take forward the parts
Of ourselves that will hold
Through a promise of change,
Entering the next stage.
In shadows of golden connection.

30.12.15 A Jewel In Every Day

In every day there's a little jewel,
Some days you open up to a treasure trove
And the world is glistening in abundance.
Some days laughter spills liquid gold over passing hours.
Others, time moves too fast,
We chase it,
We chase the clock,
We chase our tails.
And some days we have to look a little harder.
On the surface, it seems grief-stricken or a quiet struggle,
A cloudy sky and steadfast descent,
But it's there,
And it's waiting
For your eye to catch it,
And bring it's shine to the world.
In every day, there's a little jewel.

29.12.15 This Year

It was a year unlike any other,
Saw the world and chased its colour.
Scattered out and folded back in,
Held on tightly to kindness in
The moments light dreamed out its way.

It was a year much like another,
Hellos and goodbyes blowed the cover.
Wet skin dance of hopeful tide,
Early walks of choked up sunrise.
The moments struggles crept in.

It was a year, no two are the same,
A golden year's how it will remain
In memory glazed with imagination,
Now photos and fragments for inspiration
Are shadows that remain
Chasing thunder of the next drops of rain.

28.12.15 Stretch and Roll

Stretch it out,
And roll it up.
Filled to brim
The loving cup.

Wind it up,
And switch it on.
Holding on
And dreaming up.

Twist it round,
And hold it up.
Switching off
And hoping still.

27.12.15 Midnight Birdsong

In a winter so mild
The confused birds
Are singing at midnight.
I hear them in shadows
Of another day
Dreaming.
Of another day
Falling.
Of another day
Sleeping.
And feel their hope,
The whole world
For a moment
Is their song.

26.12.15 Cold Stars No Longer Had To Whisper

The road maps had run out
Of routes.
Lost signal shook empty head,
We weren't on Google Earth
Anymore.

It was dark.
Cold stars hung by a wisp,
They no longer had to whisper.

About 3am I suppose,
Collided car teetered the edge,
Cliff descent and waves of ruin,
Rolling tide battered rocks,
Smoothing out our edges.

It had been a long ride,
Longer than I remember.
I rolled up a cigarette stiffly,
Clenched it between gritted teeth
Of gnawing jaw,
And waited for the howls to pass me by.
She looked me in the eye,
One stray tear climbing down
Her heart-filled cheek.
We used words to describe
That there were no words to describe
The feeling.

Couldn't look down anymore,
It only brought on fear.
Couldn't move anymore,
It only brought on fear.
Couldn't say any more,
Wisdom soaked dry,
Like the end of a night,
Draining empty bottles
Of kindness
For that one last drop
To quench the thirst
Of fear.
So we looked up

It was dark. 
Cold stars hung by a wisp, 
They no longer had to whisper.

25.12.15 Christmas Day

This time of year drifts,
From countdown to preparation.
It still seems to land
Unexpectedly each year.
We bring magic to children
Instill it in excited beat of anticipating hearts.
In truth, they bring the magic to us.

Food was never the thing we looked forward to in childhood,
But here we are with recipe books and endless receipts.
It becomes more significant
In that it's sharing and time,
And sharing of time
In goodness.
If we could only carry that sentiment,
To those cold Monday mornings when a bill has come in,
When we're stuck on the tracks in endless commuting,
When we're tired and stressed, dishevelled, distressed.
To know it's sharing and time
And sharing of time
Always.
It might not change the world,
But it changes a moment.

And what are we if not just that.