so said the starlight, to the sea, do you know where all rivers lead? what could you hope to know of me? i’m far above you. out of reach. i sing the music of the spheres, and every dawn, i disappear, oh, cosmic lyre, into the fire, that all things come from. ever higher. responds the sea, pellucidly, don’t you know? you are part of me. we rise and fall symmetrically, there’s so much, still, you’ve yet to see. your glow, reflected on my surface? the exhaled breath of universes. and that’s your path, your shining purpose, celestial child, to learn what love is. (i will never ever finish my album if i keep insisting on adding new songs. to the sea!) Advertisements
azurite night, speckled with starlight, and i’ve a bowl of banded pebbles from beesands beach. and the new year is now, almost, within reach. soon, there’ll be snowdrops, wild strawberries, spring, which is sort of the same as everything! (dawn after dark)
this is where the hope is, winter solstice, cold moon, ursids. reflect, take a deep breath, and then look ahead, these are the memories that will sink into light. and i’m breathing cloud into the evening, as around me, the finest rain is falling, radiant and reflected flecks of gold and amber, barely even there, suspended in mid-air. (i’ve three candles burning, beeswax, i’m learning, and chamomile crushed in a cup). 1. may every day touch upon that trembling genesis of inspiration. 2. may the star-shaped sequins that have spilt themselves all over the floor form a trail. 3. may the pine needles please not drop all at once. 4. may the coming months bring me stormy days in misty and mossy places, watercolour paints, and sunday tea breaks, with cake, of course. 5. may those who have come before, and those who will come after, move tangibly, watch over, guide, me. 6. and, may the chestnuts i’ve been peeling, boiling, soaking in vanilla syrup, actually be worth eating.