falling into pisces moon

there she hangs
serene and momentous
powerful beyond measure
calling us
deeper into the darkness

pisces moon
hanging by a thread in the heavens
feeling everything

she tugs and pulls
at our fragile hearts
inviting us to break open
and fall into the ocean…

i go willingly
scared but willing
to dissolve
into her

my death is my liberation.


grace – the unseen hand

this morning i saved a spider from death

in the bath

it was struggling terribly

until i reached down and brought it
to a whole new reality

of safety and sunshine

and off it went

of course the spider thought the bath was the world

and it was a matter of life and death

but the spider trusted me

and between his trust
and my action

his life suddenly changed.

i saw myself in that spider
i have felt the same way

as though it’s a matter of life and death
trapped in a hopeless situation

maybe grace is that time
when some mysterious hand reaches down 
and shifts us to a new reality

The Water Teacher

Water is always trying to return to itself
Seeking the easiest way
To return home
And lose itself in the whole
It does not struggle to retain its identity
Or complain about being
A single drop
It does not tell a story
About how it ended up
As a puddle, destined to
Dry up and evaporate.
It simply accepts
Its destiny
Knowing innately that
All is well

Why! oh why!
Are we
So cut off from our innate knowing?
Do we really think we are so alone
Like a single drop of water?

once we were wild

somewhere deep in our dna
is the memory
of how we used to be

i call that our wildness

we became tamed and docile
so we could all live together

i call that our servitude

but no-one ever quite forgets
their wildness
it may drive their desire for beauty
or creativity or freedom

because we are still carrying
our ancestors in our blood and bones
even as we sit
in our suits and ties
and discuss important matters

and don’t imagine that you have to
be crazy or run amok
to remember your wild nature
it is much more subtle than that

that wildness is in your heart and soul
all you have to do is touch it
and taste it
because it is not really dead
until you are.

This was a picture from my wedding day, I am the one in the Antlers.
This was a picture from my wedding day, I am the one in the Antlers.

Thinking Is The Problem

Do not look to the world for your salvation
But go deep inside yourself
And return to that state
Of utter stillness and grace
Before mind starts
Grabbing and measuring
And judging
Don’t move!
Stay in that garden of love
And rest among the flowers and bees
Relax and let the world become the whisper
Of an insect somewhere in the distance.

The truth is we are blessed
And cursed by thinking

It liberates us and draws us up
We create and design and imagine
But it torments us and tortures us
When it runs out of control

So stay in that garden of love
And let your own mind
Be like the sound of an insect
Somewhere in the distance.

The Little Bird

A little bird, crashed on the window
Fell to the floor
Dazed and confused
Heart was beating
Wings were broken
Lying helpless
Waiting for nothing
Living in freedom
Dying in freedom

I’m just here
I’m paying attention
Holding him gently
Watching him breathing
Keeping him warm
Keeping him close

The sun went down
And we were all sleeping
I was still praying I would see him at dawn
But I knew he was slipping
Away from this world we cling on to

When the sun returned
I shuffled down stairs
And sitting there quietly
Was the little bird
I softly stroked him
And I opened the doors up
And he flew away

I can tell you my friend
That I’m feeling so happy
And I’m feeling so gently
Because of my friend
In a moment of seeing
In a moment of caring
And paying attention
There was love in the air

He never returned, he flew into freedom
Never saw him again
But he lives in my heartbeat
And he lives in my loving
And he lives in the way that I care for the world.

Bird in Tree

allow your heart to break

we live in such times
that to pretend
or defend 
the wounded broken heart
is impossible
and only by allowing
our hearts to break
will the milk
of human kindness
be able to flow
into the world
and heal it
back to it’s true nature

wood smoke and coffee

there are two smells
that ignite my love
of incarnation
even on a sleepy
reluctant morning…
woodsmoke and coffee.
one makes me want to
retreat and hide in the woods
live a life of solitariness
with just a dog
for company
the other makes me
keen to take my place
in the great market place
and live life fully NOW

Ah yes, one pulls me away
and the other pulls me closer
i love them both

under the ecstatic sky


I walked under
the ecstatic sky
and lost my self

oh joy!
may i never find
my self again

a sweet reverie
graced me
and i received 
it’s blessing,
mesmerised by
the patterns
god weaves

while others 
were busy looking down
and shuffling off

to their early morning
i gazed toward
the heavens in
stunned silence

the sky, the sky
i have seen
ten thousand times before
surprised me
yet again

and brought me
to my knees
in sheer wonder

how can i not
the simple majesty
of existence
when it offers me
its beauty
so freely?

the-ecstatic-sky-2-copy the-ecstatic-sky-3