Beginning

I hold this wisdom
In my skin
The Knowing Universe
Guides within
Flows as Love
Encompassing
Through tender thoughts
That turn to syn
To reach and touch
And light again
The long spent stars
Where we began


In response to Beginning this weeks OSI prompt

I breathe in the breeze
That brings you to me
All wisdom and wildness and something set free
You spill over edges
Of realities
and the Everything
That cannot contain you.


I am small and relentless, intensely myself
As I turn
Inside beauty
And staggering depths
I endlessly breathe
just to stretch with each breath
to catch even particles
of that which I love

Golden Cube

A golden cube of solid joy
Turns rays of light toward me
refracting through suspended breath
The full spectrum of beauty
Expanding then, in every cell
A brightening glow of life
The tantalised exquiteness
Releases with my breath

I feel my boots
and push my roots
deeper into Her
balancing
and drawing on
solidity of earth


In my mind
I clearly see
what I had done before
and tenderly
withdraw my roots
from those that I adore

tired

Quiet tired headache in my heart
spreads its motion sickness scents
into muscles and exhausted eyes
that blame and blame and blame
me.

and a new earth

Will rave more about Wirrow at a later (or more sensible) time ...for now, this latest video is a must share :D

Connoisseur

I'm a connoisseur
Of the air
Of the vibes
Eternally aware
Of your hides
And your lies
Of the rise in emotions
You so passively guise
I am a connoisseur

Yes, I'm a connoisseur
Well trained
In my art
Of eternal shell stepping
And avoidance of hurt
Practiced in caring
To the point I'm inert
So my new connoisseurship
Will be my own heart

Hmmm not sure about this one at all...but it's my offering for this weeks OSI prompt connoisseur

100 years

wisdom winds branches
round branches
and spreads them
and leans ever higher
growth upon self
taking support
from it's own mirrored growing
outstretched and trusting
a hundred years slow

and I am the speck
am the fleetingest colour
that rests at the roots
in a moment of hope
that somehow
this wisdom
will touch me
and impart
that I might learn something
a hundred years slow