Home

 The womb beyond the mother waits,

Glowing embers in hearth, warm milk simmering in a pan.

A shared space, as I shared in my own nine month turn, each with their nurturing, warmth, feeding and care. 

Time to be rather than do or be done,

Space to see more than to look or be seen 

A den of blankets, cushions, duvets, pillows, sheets, snugs, hugs, kisses and cuddles.

No rules, except the rules: kind hands, kind feet, kind words. 

To all equal. 

To all my heart.

 To all my everything. 

My hearth, my home.

Peace comes dropping slow

Peace comes dropping slow.
You know,
I wish it would?
With every sinew, and blood vessel,
heartbeat and breath,
with each vein, in each life giving tendril,
from my bones:
coccyx, sternum,
cavicle, humerus, radius, ulna,
carpals, metacarpals, tarsals, metatarsals, and phalanges.
From my pelvis, femur, patella, tibia and fibula.
From my soul.
Peace comes dropping slow,
I wish it would.
Let's work on it.

My father's father's face

The profile of the past etched out on thick drawing paper, delicately and gently, in 1962.

I never met him.
Yet I see him now, gently cast in a new and toddling face, frowning, exploring.
I don't know him yet.

He never met you.
Lyric, he might be; scholar he is; artist, we'll see; dancer, he tries; teacher, he will be; farmer, I hope for; bee keeper, we need; father and grandfather, we pray.
Your father's face, Da. 

The past casts the future after all.

Dandelion Clock

Tick, tock, dandelion clock,
the dawning of a brand new day.
Fingers clasped on hopeful stems,
the world entire gently carried
with fragile smiles.

Tick, tock, dandelion clock,
rushed, running, turn and say:
'I love you'.
We are released, encouraged,
and so proceeding on and on.

Tick, tock, dandelion clock,
another generation
learning and growing
under the regular sun and water
of the words and gestures we use for each other.

Tick, tock, dandelion clock,
One gentle gust, the world departing,
dearly beloved,
loving mother, father, husband, wife and friend.

In everything you said and did,
we learnt from you.
Tick, tock, dandelion clock. Stop.

Going global

I sank into the bath
and nobody called.
I luxuriated under soft silken bubbles,
dipped my head listening to the watery silence.

Dolphins crested the glistening foam,
and carried me to Africa
to see efalants, wildebeest,
and a giant moclius bird
with two beaks.

In India I met a monkey
whose hair was red.
And a great green crocodile was caught
gawping in my direction
looking hungry.

A komodo dragon dribbled dangerously
near my warm and neatly folded towel
in China.
And an anacodona waved his head
as I surfaced and heard:
'Where's mummy? `
'South America', you said.

Rock

Your rock
is secretly pumice stone,
gets all frightened when shes alone.
Afraid of the dark.
and dragons and monsters under the bed
even though she knows
they are only in her head.

Your rock
is petrified that she might shatter
but it doesn't matter.
A molten heart is pounding,  
reviving.
Mothers rise
eternal.

Bed

I sleep in snatches,
Sandwiched.
Peaceful forms on either side, 
pinned close to feel my skin.
Sometimes the cat also finds a niche of warmth.
I dare not move, my stillness and heartbeat the harbinger of peace.

I awake and am lonely in company.
My hip throbs and back pains.
I listen to gentle breathing, dreaming, heart beating.
I wish, long, ache to be where you are now.
Asleep, alone and in the company of dreams.