Ruminations: No 1

Ruminations: No 1

 

I am come

To burn my thorns

To open my heart

To feel the precious

Acts of kindness

Extended in the hands of others.

 

I am come

To burn my thorns

To open my heart

To hear the joyful laughter

Of you, me and Other

Dancing spirals with the wind.

 

I am come

To burn my thorns

To open my heart

To see the invisible

To hear with eyes wide open

And see with ears allowed.

 

I am come

To burn my thorns

To open my heart

To smell the salty

Swell of ocean waves, kissing

Playful pebbles as they run.

 

I am come

To burn my thorns

To open my heart

To celebrate the wonder

In Beauty’s breathless whisper

Of red full moon at dawn.

The Meeting Place

 DSC01110The following words were inspired by my experience on the ‘Healing Words’ course, at the International School of Storytelling last summer.  It was one of those life experiences that can be challenging to articulate – and I share it now because this poem goes some way to express something meaningful to me.

 

Where lives the Meeting Place between All Things?

The quiet space, it holds the key

Where all that was and is to be,

The stillness and the pause between

The black of night and dawn is seen,

Or is it where the land meets sea –

A breathing edge of mystery?

Where lives the Meeting Place between All Things?

Amongst the pages and the words

Of writer’s prose and poet’s verse,

Upon the breath of songster’s voice

And in the artist’s palette choice –

It springs to life upon the verge

Where colour, form and beauty merge.

Where lives the Meeting Place between All Things?

There, heart meets mind in sweet embrace

And eyes light up a darkened face.

Round-raindrops fall from clouds of dreams

As thoughts increase and swell to streams –

With smiles we play as magic springs

And feelings soar on Eagle’s wings.

Where lives the Meeting Place between All Things?

There life expands to something new

There was one once, and now there’s two.

Each moment morphs to our desire

A passion burns, re-lights a fire

And there upon a path to tread

A journey springs to life instead.

Where lives the Meeting Place between All Things?

Rumi’s field is where we’ll meet

Beyond Life’s rights or wrongs to greet

Each other, and then side by side

We’ll hear Life’s rhythm on the tide

And where a stillness bridges space –

Between us grows, the Meeting Place.