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Journeys of the heart

       Standing at the gates at the turning of the year, and hearing a new song rising. Walking into an unknown country of 2019, and never been this way before……….     

eagle image

Into the Wild

Spread your wings and fly

On the winds of the dawn

Knowing the call of the wild

comes calling again.

Into that unknown country

Crossing new frontiers

to what is beyond.

See snow capped mountain peaks

and golden eagles soar

and where we meet

the tenderness of wolves and bears

Heart of an explorer.

I hear this song

at the turning of the year

calling me again

into the wild.

The Falling

Journeys of the heart

 

leaves

There are days and moments when suddenly everything in our lives change and we find ourselves in completely new territory with many new lessons to learn. There’s no turning back…….

 

The Falling

Falling, falling

fierce white light, red heat.

I’m down, hit the ground

but not running today.

Piercing, searing knife

like shard of  jagged glass

takes my breath away.

A cry from lips and hip.

That moment when

everything changes…….

…And now the

cold blue steel and

healing scar I carry

tells my story.

Falling, falling

like autumn leaves,

leaves are falling

Journeys of the Heart

I am always drawn to the sea and have had the good fortune of living close to the sea these last fifteen years. Always a place of encounter…

the sea steve

The Turning Of The Tide

I want to go to the sea today

Taste the salt and smell the breeze

Hear the singing of the tides.

Ebb and flow, rise and fall.

Roar begins and falls again.

The swell is deep an deeper still

within. The echo of these seas.

The rhythms  and riddles  of the heart.

Again the rise and fall.

Again the ebb and flow.

Again the growing swell.

Movements of the heart.

Knowing I can’t hide

from the turning

of the tide.

The Singing Bowl at Alhaurin

Sometimes there are days when the mist lifts over the East and its like the opening of eyes and ears long closed. Its a new way of seeing………

 

First light, and there’s orange gardens, ragged

Patchwork of olive groves spread before me.

And behind?  the rim of Sierra Nevada.

Encircled by misty blue snow-capped mountains

Creates this singing bowl.

Bark of distant dogs, bullfrogs

In these pastures of heaven.

Fragrance of jasmine, chatter of chaffinch.

As faintest breathe of breeze

softly wraps around my skin.

 

 

And light pours through these hills.

Multi -layered mountains ripple back

as far as eye can see to sea.

In early morning light flash of swift wing.

At last this singing bowl

Begins to sing. Awake

dawn chorus just

to bless this

morning.