Ease, Silence and Joy

The meaning of myself
is ease, silence and joy.
This triad dance together
rebuffing any desire
to work things out,
be in control or
find the answer.
There is no seeking,
no wanting,
no knowing,
only waiting,
watching,
being.

Ease, silence and joy weave together,
gently untying the knots of the heart,
gently reminding the mind
doubt, fear and hate do not belong here
they are imposters.

The dance of ease, silence and joy
is weaving a spell to reveal
the miracles of life,
unfurling a magic carpet
on which delight, marvel and wonder
ride resplendent.

The dance of ease, silence and joy
is finding the answer
in the meaning of myself.

© 27 Oct 13

The Door and Windows of the Heart are Open

The doors and windows of the heart are open

for love to fly freely,

spiralling through a lazy Sunday afternoon sky and 

catching air currents to ride effortlessly through open space.

The doors and windows of the heart are open

for love to cartwheel on dew-laden grass and 

roll down hillocky and bumpy fields and 

land in a breathless, giggling heap at the bottom.

The doors and windows of the heart are open

for love to dance barefoot and carefree

into welcoming arms and a tender embrace.

The doors and windows of the heart are open

for love to tangle her hair and catch her clothes 

on a thrilling ride through dark and dense forests

full of knotty roots and clasping brambles and

emerge into the sunshine with a racing pulse and pumping blood.

The doors and windows of the heart are open

for love to touch your outstretched fingertips and 

know you are less than a skip away.

The doors and windows of the heart are open

for love to be herself,

to be heartful and compassionate,

to be truthful and trusting,

to be loving and to be loved.

The doors and windows of the heart are open

for love to meet you at the edge of daring and

to jump together into the unknown abyss

without caring if or where our feet will land.

© 24 Sep 13

Go outside

Memo to self,
go outside!
Your inner being
cannot be found
at the computer,
no matter how many
pages you google.

Go outside,
to see if the ripening plums
are caterpillar free,
watch the wasp eating the bean
you thought was yours,
smell the sweet peas,
feed the birds,
discover new growth in
the row of spinach seeds,
taste the juicy blackberry,
get some mud beneath
your fingernails,
see the raindrops collect
on the Cotinus leaves,
find a new Hibiscus
flower opening,
and feel the warmth
of the autumn sun on your face.

It doesn't matter what you do.
Go outside
and connect with your inner being.

© 10 Sep 13

Are You Sure?

Hello, Doubt, my old friend,

What have you to say to me today?

What poisonous words will you tip into my ear?

Have you come to tell me I am no good at this,

and will never finish it, because I am not capable?

Have you brought along your friends,

Procrastination and Distraction,

with a tempting array of delights to place before me?

And is that Boredom that I see, trailing along behind,

suggesting that anything would be better 

than concentrating on this task before me? 

Do you feel bolstered up by their presence?

Your little army, to reinforce your statements?

Are you sure, Doubt, are you sure?

Are you certain they will back you up,

be there through thick and thin and

when the going gets rough?

Can you guarantee they will be at your shoulder

to confirm what you have to say?

Do I see a nervous flicker in your eyes,

A sly glance backwards to ensure they are still present?

Is Doubt itself having doubts?

What a hilarious thought!

I laugh out loud at your predicament.

Doubt has turned on itself, and no longer has 

the swagger and self-confident poise that first appeared.

Are you sure, Doubt, are you sure?

Oh, Doubt,

Where are you?

© 10 May 12

The Ocean of Bliss

I wrote this poem on a retreat in 2008, and now on another retreat it came to mind again, still true, still accurate, still paddling in the shallows a lot of the time! Yet also knowing the ever-still centre. :)

How long will we spend
paddling in the shallows
before we are prepared
to risk diving deep?

The ocean of bliss
calls constantly to us
ever-present
waiting
watching
beckoning.

The proliferation of
seashells and soft, soft sand
is beguiling to a mind
caught up with noise.

Only in the depths
beneath the turbulent and
constantly moving sea
will we find
the centre
that is ever still.

© 20 June 08

Stop

Stop, 

stop trying to be 

someone.

Let me tell you a secret.

You already are someone.

And if you look 

deep inside 

you may catch a glimpse 

of the jewel 

that is you 

hidden beneath 

the dusty, musty covers 

that you have collected over the years, 

as a kind of protection.

The layers that make you think 

you have to be 

a particular kind of someone.

A wife, a mother, 

a loving friend 

that does things 

and says things 

in a particular way.

But if you stop 

and listen to your heart 

you will hear 

deep inside 

there is already a someone 

who wants to be set free.

A someone 

who doesn’t behave the way 

she thinks other people want her to, 

a someone 

who doesn’t say all the right things 

and doesn’t have all the answers, 

but is unique.

The unique jewel 

that is you 

only needs a bit of space, 

a scent of fresh, clear air 

in order to be free, 

to find the gap 

between the dense forest of covers 

that you have collected over the years.

Stop trying 

to be a different someone, 

a better someone 

and let yourself be 

really you.

Stop trying.

Stop.

© 24 May 12

When Is A Good Time To Meditate?

I wrote this poem several years ago, but it’s a golden one for me, that lots of people seem to relate to. so I’m sharing again.

When Is A Good Time To Meditate?

When the nowness of the moment

takes you by the hand

and gently whispers 'stop' 

in your ear.

When the blushing pinkness 

of the sky

catches your eye.

When the path least trod

beckons

and the bridge welcomes you

instead of the road.

When the scent of wisteria

tickles your nostrils.

When the flickering glimmer

of a bat's wing

against a darkening sky

makes you turn

figures of eight.

When the heart says 'be'.

When the twinkling wetness

of dew on grass

forces the socks and shoes

from your feet

and your toes delight in

breath-taking coldness.

When 'stop' and 'rest' 

are greater than the

momentum that propels

you onward.

When the nowness of the moment

takes you by the hand.

© 21 May 12

Love letter

In the 31-day Commitment practice I have been taking part in during October with Plum Village UK we have been reflecting on 10 Love Letters from Thay - Thich Nhat Hanh.

As the month and commitment practice draws to a close we are invited to write our own Love letter.

This is mine, written and painted during a night when I couldn’t sleep!

Love Letter

I bow to earth in me
keeping me grounded and safe.
I bow to water in me
keeping me flowing and loving.
I bow to fire in me
keeping me warm-hearted and kind.
I bow to air in me
keeping me dancing.
I bow to space in me
keeping me fresh and free.
I bow to consciousness in me
keeping me connected to all beings.
I bow to love in me
I bow to love about me
I bow to life-sustaining love
energy and source of all.
© 29 Oct 21

Autumn's Cloak

Leaves land like footprints
on muddy earth
as Autumn breezes her way
softly through the month
sweeping her cloak over flowers
inviting them to hibernation.
Her fingertips caress each tree trunk
gently, thanking them
for life-giving energies.

The song of Autumn is a lullaby
singing of quieter days
dark nights brightened by firelight
woolly warmth of blankets
and soothing candlelight.

Autumn is crowned with a golden sunset
as she sings of spirals
circling away from the
vibrancy and heat of summer
towards the cool contentedness of winter
a time for reflection and drawing in.

Autumn's cloak rustles over
golden beech leaves
signalling the circling of the seasons
towards gratitude and
acknowledgement of gifts.
Great abundance!
© 10 Oct 21

How many ways to say 'I love you'?

Here's a cup of tea
I made you a pizza
I brought your favourite chocolate
Let me do your ironing
I chopped some wood for you
Here's a hand to hold
I made you a card
I knitted you a jumper
I fed your cat
Let me wash your cup
Have the last biscuit
Come and look at this butterfly/ this sunset
Let's watch this programme together
Shall we go for a coffee?
I thought you'd like this book
This made me think of you
I'll put the ice-cream away
Your hair looks nice
Thanks for the text
I want to sit beside you
Will you come with me?
I'll give you a lift
Would you like to borrow this?
I wrote a poem for you
You make me laugh
I want you to have this
Are you watching that tv series?
Shall I light the fire?
I picked you some beans
That colour really suits you
Are you ok?
How was work today?
Can we facetime soon?
I haven't heard from you in a while
Shall we have a cuppa?
What did you think of the book?
Do you need a blanket?
Shall we see this comedian?
Let me show you this
Let's play scrabble
Have you got a key?
What would you like to do?

If we could see
that everything we say
is an expression of love
(sometimes expressed inarticulately)
we might say things in a different way.

© 19 Aug 19

Take the Time

Take the time to soak in these moments
these “strange” “unprecedented” times.
Do we yet see them as a gift?
A present?
An invitation to be present
to slow down and take notice of
what is around and within.

Take the time to revel in this pause
this diversion from the usual busyness
that has us fixed on a one-track road
of getting through the day, the life
blinkered and unseeing.

Can we take the time to learn
some wonderful lessons?
To see that our modus operandi
wasn’t working
wasn’t beneficial
for family life, for being together
for work-life balance?

Take the time to bathe in these days
when we can hear the birds
enjoy the sunrise and sunset
sit with a cup of tea
converse with our neighbours.

Take the time to soak in these moments.
Do we yet see them as a gift?
© 16 Apr 20

Written during lockdown in the UK, as still relevant! :)

Golden Moment

In this moment
the sky paints the river
Rose gold
the trees paint the earth
Golden rust
the birds paint the space between
with golden song.

I do not wish to be with
the clamour of cars
or the shout of shops
I wish to be with the
wonder of the woods
the rolling of the river
the shh of the stream
where a mink may make an appearance
and the kingfisher has it’s secret home.
where the blackbirds chatter in treetops
and everything sings a golden song.

© 15 Oct 20