Heavy like clouds

Rough stone, as cold as our hearts that hurt.
Weathered by the life we chose. Dropped into the pool of time.
Weighing down. Hard like bones in our stomach.
From the meaty dreams devoured in youth.
Rain upon a fertile mind, where the weeds and willows weep.
And where cacti bloom in the drought of purity.
Our own selves, no longer true as a shadow of regret reminds;
that we’re locked and dying in the jaws of time.

Crawling out of a dream

My apologies please, I did not mean to interrupt.
Floating in my own dreams, a million miles above.
You tiptoe towards ascension, drinking in thoughts divine.
But fumbling in reality, and faith you think sublime.
I folded your bones in your sleep, cupped your tears as they fell.
Watched you swim in the shallowness, in pools of personal hell.
You want me to dream like you, and strip those trees bare.
And play forever with diamond sand, bowed deep in earthly prayer.
From vantage I watch the injured birds, in circles with broken wings.
Kept together by the glue of self, played on by other’s strings.
Chew over these observations, and golden words from God.
I apologise again once more, for the lesser things forgot.
So I cup you in my feathered hands, and wake you from the dream.
And do my best to understand, that things aren’t what they seem.
Vous êtes déjà Dieu, et déjà ce que vous connaissez.
Il est posé comme une graine immaculée, en attendant sa chance de grandir.

Trailing reality

Where did you find me?
Where the willows whisper?
That quiet place where they weep.
Falling over the side of the world.
Don’t make a sound if you’ve come here for that.
Sit quietly and rock the sands of time in your hand.
Back and forth, like a spirit on a sea.
Breathe in this peaceful frozen moment.
And let go of my hand.
You can turn away and leave me be.
Slip out the side of the planet and disappear into the stars.
I was content here alone.
Dipping my toe out of reality.
Fear not the monster at my feet.
That had slithered out the tranquil pool where you caught your own reflection.
I know its ways.
All his tantrums and toil.
It’s all crocodile tears these days anyhow.

Down within

Down to the water’s edge.
Beneath the willow and the sadness.
He stopped his world for a while.
No hand to pull him back.
Only invisible fingers pushing him forward.
Reeling in his mind like spinning wheels.
He lay on the cold bank.
Shedding his tears into deeper pools.
Pouring out his misery and loneliness.
Until he drowned the flying fish.
An ice crept across the water.
Licking his bones and sealing his eyes tight.
His heart caught between a beat and a break.
Hurrying this ice-age that would sweep the world away.
Yet he does not dwell unobtainably with the gods.
Or at the end of a book to placed on the shelf.
His small pool of sorrow lies within.
Every time the change of seasons ring.
Each day your body sways and splits..
He aches once more for the shore.