Unseen! 
New words and visuals

haiku 

A cool spring morning
announced by the woodpecker –  
awake in the world.
 

A ride in the sun - 
crows descend on warm breezes, 
in search of their food.

A passing sadness
that attempted to linger
broken by movement.

 

Free falling blossom
reminds me of our picnic -  
alone on a beach. 


My old truth is dead
from there to here I have passed –
new life emerging.

Wonderful crimson, 
an injury to old skin - 
he strains to hear us.

The heavy spring moon

is watching my eyes, leaking

as day turns to night.

The evening birdsong
on a breeze through the window, 
whilst brushing my teeth.

ants and daffodils

Sunlit daffodils,
nodding their heads towards me,
remind me of how
time can oscillate somehow
and suddenly I am born.

Our tranquil night walks,
a sudden recognition –
you are more than the
sum of your cells or the hum
that your tongue takes for knowledge.

You are a pleading,
an architect of silence.
The ants we mimic,
filling cities endlessly -
the pulsing pierces ear drums.

Morning silence 

I have lived at this wonderful cusp,
blessed by countless acts of love -
 
I only want for a way to 
thank every eye that
has held me in its gaze, 
to sanctify each smile
with palms pressed together, a silent prayer 
for posterity,
for the next gesture born of love
and not fear for 
they stand opposed and

basking in the breath of all bad deeds not 
committed I fold into kindnesses,
emergent through unknown worlds 
that brim with friends yet unmade and
suns yet unrisen - 


to celebrate our unlikelihood, 
our impossible chance to run in the rain. 


 

STUMBLED STARTS 

The land of desks and paperwork,
of mystery and gods,
in which I landed quite unknown:

to songs of bugs and frogs. 


The floor gave way under my feet,
and through the void I fell,
udon noodles, late night walks
and visions straight from hell.  

 

Gingko was a savior,

wept leaves before my heart,

as autumn sung its song of death

an ode to stumbled starts.

I think of every peaceful walk,
remember every friend,
and come home with an ounce of truth:
All good and bad must end.