Recipe for a life: one cup of joy dealt generously in childhood, then sparingly until it seems no more meagre drops can be shaken into the mix. Is it all in the brain, as childhood’s neurons spark, carving channels through malleable tissue? Then things stiffen, jell, until no emotions can move save perhaps an occasional discharge of anger or grief?
But then a morning when
the night before
Venus and Mars paraded across the heavens
this morning two more sparks, Jupiter, Saturn,
heading into the West
until the sun drowns us all in light.
We have always wanted to go into the West.
How could we not with this stately
diurnal/nocturnal parade of light that moves
always, always into the West?
So we go into the West where the fountain of joy is,
and everywhere the flutter of wings, restlessly waiting,
ducks, starlings, pigeons,
flowers of frost, the harbour calm as a bowl of milk,
distant ships that will never find the port I seek.
Gulls cry, cutting the morning apart.
The weather must have been much more like Spring in 2002 when this was written.
Today is one of those days
when you know you will live forever.
The Goddess awakens, thrusting green fingers
through last year’s decay.
Twigs unfold leaves, tiny wings
green flames bright with life.
Just beyond reach, birdsong
threads the lambent sky with joy.
The sun rests on the horizon
like a newlaid egg
full, full, full of promises
and no regrets.
Awakened by the seasalt air
my adamantine soul
imperishable as the universe
warms and grows a little
and I know that I will live forever.
Winter field: two crows
playing leapfrog in the snow.
Joy lands in my heart.
This miracle planet filled with life irresistibly arising from the inanimate, a chunk of motley stardust learning how to see itself. How did awareness blossom, escaping from crucibles of mathematics, physics, chemistry? What does the planet think of its experiment now that it is overrun with undisciplined, invasive monkeys?
Under the street lamps
my triple shadow
lengthens, fades, disappears.
A puddle of dark
clings to my feet
like the looming shadow
of someone behind.
past veils of city lights
my grateful eyes accept
a gift of ancient photons.
Light has no mass here
else Earth would be fat
of four billion years.
Light only glimmers, flickers,
sparkles through chinks
in our drafty universe,
hinting at ineffable glory
I am a human being. My birthright is the Earth. I have the right to breathe clean air, drink pure water, eat nourishing food. I have the right to sleep in safe shelter, and live with people who love me and I them. I have the right to enjoy the gifts of this planet: animals, plants, rain and sunshine, pristine landscapes and beautiful shores.I have the right to see the stars through the transparent lens of our atmosphere, a window open to the wonders of the universe.
How dare anyone take these rights away.