Silence

Silence

Last day of January
dawn breaking as I write
still too late for comfort

My breath, the computer’s whirr
an occasional gull crying
no words spoken

January’s leaving silently
with her Janus-face

no apology, no explanation
not even saying goodbye.

Streets

Streets

I’ve shunned the urban
for muddy tracks and beaches

I’ve fallen asleep in a castle
behind high hedges of thorns

Now, I’m ready for people
to see beauty

in Falmouth’s well-made streets.

Blue

Blue

The colour of sadness
the music of oppression
today transformed
by the hard-working sea
into sky and spring

Perspective

Perspective

Sunday 18th January

For years, I have walked the lower path -
today, avoiding mud, we went over the hill.

I saw my town anew
from a vantage point I’d never been to.

How beautiful it is.

Fugitive

Fugitive

Like light on the path
wrens in the brambles
sun in the sky
my poems escape me –
there then gone.

Iris

Iris

I see blue and mauve
the artist sees cerulean and bishop’s violet
I see bloom and fade
God sees us coming nearer home

Trust

Trust

No moon
but light enough to walk the steep path to the shore

No moon
but silver gliding over the waves

No moon
though clouds ached with wanting to let light through

A glimpse of her round face
then gone again, not returning that night

Instead soft rain, warmer air, friends round a fire
and knowledge that somewhere she’s there.

Bare

I am late posting as I've had a difficult week, unable to settle to tasks, feeling lonely, restless. This poem is from Sunday:

I take down the decorations
lift tinsel from pictures
wrap glass globes
box colour, light and love
set free the patient tree
to breath the winter air
create space for what may come
make bare the room

Connections

My Trail - Wales

Basho's Trail - Japan

The two photographs above are so similar. At this time of year, I am always reflective, thinking about the past and how the future might be. The idea that Basho walked steps like I walked and that later we were moved to write poems seems to make a connection that transcends here, now, us, them - we are all on this journey.

Far apart, in time, in space
all of us climb the same steps
see the same seasons
try to make sense of lost leaves,
ourselves, our journeys.

Ache

A short one today - my little dog still not recovered and feeling shaken by the powerful film Changeling I saw last night - thinking how to protect the vulnerable, the innocent, the angels all around us ...

Ache

Love is an ache
letting down the one I love
hurts

The Dead

This photo was taken in November but the feeling of loss, of everything falling, applied to New Year's Day yesterday.

The Dead

The New Year’s here.
So many people I loved are not
and neither is the me I used to be -
I miss us all.