Tag Archives: gratitude

Else (Oct 2010)

14 Nov

We are silent for a long while.

We haven’t talked yet. It’s not that
this isn’t the right place to bring up awkward
discussions, it’s just that …

 this place; it seems
entirely irreverent to remember
the small details that piss me off.
The forest isn’t tidy.

It’s scrubby underfoot. We see shells of Rata
and skyward Rimu. I move
with my hands out, a blind person
feeling their way forward.

  And then he breathes, a subtle exclamation.
His eyes resting beyond me.
Off to one side is a dead punga trun¬k
and carved into the threads of bark

is a face.

A strong patriarchal guardian of a face.

It’s back to the creek and surveying
us. He’s like a Moai I say.
It looks both intent
and indifferent.
Gazeless eyes
long nose
long chin
a moko transplanting any expression.

Absorbed in duty.

Next to it, an old Rimu; its life shortened
I think, from a lightening strike,
  or something of that magnitude.

A dead wound of its exposed inner self
sliced jaggedly down
the northern rim of its trunk.

Death is arresting.

The bark is peeling back
like sunburnt skin of an old woman –
wrinkles so hardened a thousand stories
must exists within its folds.

Yet there is still life in this tree
in the shape of rata and ferns that grow
from the decay at sun kissed heights.
We look up, and up and up.

  The trunk is stout at the base,
meandering by the middle and at the top
reaches into nothing. It just stops
like an exclamation mark.

How long does it take to die?

I touch the tree and, like a hand
  I can’t let go
I stay, arm outstretched, fingering
rough material, appreciating the portion
that comes off as I lift my hand.

This tree is buoyant in death
it is one of those deaths that takes an eon
to surrender the complete life force.
And we have arrived in its final exhale.

There is no compulsion to move on.
The path is behind us and ahead of us
but off somewhere else. This tree isn’t about else.
It doesn’t venture an alternative to its life or death.

There is no else. There is only this.

we play in creation (Aug 2010)

20 Oct

ah yes, I like playing
god, a slow pondering
god who wakes
up on a grey morning

declaring this is the colour
of heaven today,
because then we allow
all to slow down;
collectively sigh

#

we play in creation
as a small detail –
a driftwood construct
in idle hands,
a bow of a ship

in creative lands,
a boon to sailors
taking a leap,
like faith is uncharted
and needs a flag

#

I see, I remember, I image (Aug 2010)

20 Oct

#

I trust the sun will rise
of course I do
a big hill like Paekakariki
can only be a shadow
for so long

it must harbour light, and
I see the sun must blush
in embarrassment
for appearing late

#

I couldn’t find my way
out of bed
past the church
a spire steals the skyline
a tree steals a silhouette

nor could I find
a suitably grand entrance
like the one you keep
expecting
(you remember; golden arches)

#

God’s Fingers
pointing to Kapiti
a lone gull
gliding through stillness –

and all I can do
is roll you over
in bed and say something
a thousand times, like
Thank you

#

imagine the tui
gul-lop-doh-top
cop-lo-doh-top

their heaven full of praise, each song
one word of admiration
so personal, and
unnecessary

Water

15 Oct

As part of Blog Action Day 2010:Water I had a go at writing a poem about water as it relates to me.

This poem is inspired by the beautiful work that Dr Masaru Emoto has done and is continuing to do.

Water

“Water has a memory
and carries within it
our thoughts and prayers.

As you yourself are water,
no matter where you are,
your prayers will be carried
to the rest of the world”

       Dr Masaru Emoto

Here is my body
seventy percent water
that’s less than when I was born
when I was ninety percent
fluid potential

Here are my emotions
a cup for emptying
oceans like love
expressing more than one way
to live, when love is the only way

Here is my consciousness
netted into all consciousness
one ocean, many tides
one tide, one gravitation
for now

Here is my energy
subtle and vast
like the space between
me and the sky
me and my heart

Here I am
    awareness
of all that I am and am not
of all that I can be
and where I chose to be

and I place myself
at my centre, offering
    love and
so many thank yous
for sending

all of this …
to me, to all beings
to all waters
to all earths
    namaste

Laura (22 May 2010)

29 Jun

We found our healing in each other
As my pain begins, in mid sob
your name whispers in my ear
  Laura! Go to her!

We sit with each other
in the hour my heart bled raw
and your body doubled over
in a loss of every known freedom

through our most vulnerable moments
I learn to watch your strength
take hold, always always believing
in your own resilience

  your own power

I was sent to breathe
the same air of someone
who embodies and lives
the belief: I AM WORTHY

It is the message I need
for my deepest and greatest growth
You transform me
  with your essence

  I love you dearly

I always believe in you
I am only shining You back at yourself
I am as clear as I can be
  so as not to distort our reflection

Without any effort, we radiate
  our serenity, peace and love
to all those around us
This is our greatest healing

begrudging angel (30 April 2010)

29 Jun

you know you turned up
while I was lost
in that second of anxiety

you appear
  cold, aloof
  slightly inconvenienced

and inadvertently helpful
like I stole a gesture
you would rather save

  for someone else
and I laugh that I can attract
such a begrudging angel

deep (14 Jan 2010)

26 Jan

I am profoundly affected
only you don’t know
  you didn’t know

something deep inside
  detangles itself – collapses
because

you are toning, low earth notes
you are gifting Earth Mother’s
  vibration into my heart

I feel so … Held
  held in touch
  held in safe surrender

to the space existing between
  our bellies
  and own hearts’ opening

you are toning and I am in
  deep surrender, thank you
  for holding the space open

only … you don’t know
nothing has sounded from
  my lips, nothing is happening

in front of you, and you pull
  away, feeling unmet, feeling
I am holding on or holding back

an impatient stirring pulls you
  and in that movement
I am birthed and abandoned

I am shockingly naked
disorientated by aloneness
  something went wrong

  I am separate
  I am cold and burnt
  I am wombless

all agony surfaces
and I cry, loud and
  belly felt

I am a sight which you hold
You circle me again
The way Earth Mother always is

and I am rebirthed

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