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Tuesday, 31 May 2016

River


I have been coming
to this place since
just after
dad died
a wooden seat by the 
river Derwent best
part of 17 years winter 
and summer alike
there is for me a great
sense of peace and
connection I don't know
if I have built 
it up year upon year
layer upon layer or
if it was here call-
ing to me...

it is a a great blessing 
to be here
as all life is 
every where

here the two
murmurings
live side by
side with each
other
here it is poss-
ible to hold them
in creative ten-
sion

knowing
the end of the
story
whilst able 
to appreciate
the moment.


Monday, 30 May 2016

Binding




the journey continues aided by a wise and able teacher
each book becomes a journey in itself 
the choosing
folding sewing
there's a flow and a rhythm
which becomes
more like a dance an exchange
than toil and effort
give and take 
back and forth
weaving materials 
of a fashion
until the music stops
and the next dance begins

Monday, 23 May 2016

The Journey Westward

And so we wonder lately
is it the speaking and the hearing 
or the reading in the writing
that the wisdom lies
the music and the rhythm
pattern and texture of lane and waterfall 
unencumbered by the need for meaning
water flows where it will
unaware of the needful things
of tree and white flowered bush
growing in its way

The music goes where it will and 
touching in between parts
enlivens the dust clinging to
to the improbable future
we sing 
are sung in everyday operas
unseen wind moves our vane 
tripping over sentiment 
laughing at insecurity
longing for the sea

Little left now to play with
but an easy lassitude
wasted on youth when freely available
generous giver seeks soft grass of summer meadow 
at spring's turn towards heaven
longing leaves behind its pain conquering
time lost in the echoes of fragmented history
expressing freedom in new and unexpected ways
dawn welcomed dreaming solitude
smiles at the future stretching far into the sunset
with rose-golden arms wide open
welcoming the inevitable 
the king is dead
long live the king
upon the eagle's back
soaring now upon the quickness of air
glorying in all its thinness and strength 

We bought the book and read it inside our heads
wondering why the transportation failed us
it was always going to be the same
the concert's after taste 
the glow of warm notes
rolling round the mind
it was never going to be the same
borrowed meaning collapses under pressure
which always leaves us wondering 
caught in the misty fruitful moment
of now of then
perhaps and maybe
and through our grasping fingers 
flow the fragmented lives we thought to live
our gaze is now beyond the sparkling sand of 
yesterday and today
upon a timeless uncharted sea of hope.

Tuesday, 3 May 2016

Something moving


You have to wonder about it all.
Here I am armed to the teeth with enthusiasm and engagement with resurrected bookbinding skills and unsure what to print off to bind.

Seem to be on the edge really
ready to plunge this time 
or if not when.
I do make me laugh!