Long Green Love of the World
(from the book "Spirit Songs")

Fish, butterflies,

You are fingers in my days.

Birds, beasts,

You are hands flying

Between the sun and the bright painted land.

Friends, you are trees, shadows,

Leaves swaying

In the wind of the whispering universe.

I am pleased

To say I am living.

I am glad to be able

To sit down and laugh

At the flowers stirring the hours.

I am so very glad to be here to sing

While the sea fills my ears with its wild shouting.

Let me never forget

The long green love of the world.

Let me never forget

To praise the rich brown energetic earth

For her giving.

All Green and Living Things
(from the book "Terra Affirmative")

All green and living things

a foundation beneath my feet,

a wall about my ears,

an arch above my head.

Trees root beside the road.

The road claims the surface

but the trees root down beneath,

trees root down beneath.

They grow tall,

taller than you or I,

but sometimes they bend,

gracefully bend to meet.

Lead us down their path,

a path between trees to a lake,

flat stones interspersed with grass,

grass coming up where no other thing comes up.

In a sandy field

there is shelter from sun and rain

beneath a gnarled old tree

where I can lean my bike.

I lie down on the earth

to dream and feel

the insects creep,

dream and feel the insects creep.

At the hill’s foot

there’s a magic place to wander in,

a forest of leaves and moss

where green & living jewels drip into my eyes.

Improvisations with Pinks and Greens
(from the book "Following Father")

Cherry tree celebrates life

with pink blossom

looks at me, whispering

You could be beautiful too.

Sparrow wears old brown

but his song is pink like the blossom

stuffing my ears

with the sound of elation.

I want the green

that is springtime

and the green

that is knowing.

It is the green that I want

to place in your hands,

a bud for each one of you

buds that belong to this earth.

Sunbeams and dewdrops,

explosions of blossom

plump into fruit

luscious with pure existence.

Crossover (from the book "Following Father")

Plunge through dark woods,

dodge twisted tree limbs,

duck down to swift river

where fish will
answer the song of your dreams
with their polished scales.

You know the dart and flick
of their quick chorus
will be in tune with your heart,
Hypnotising you
until the rushing world dissolves
into that one pool.

Elephants (from the book "Following Father")

Like the elephant's great grey hulk,
Africa divides the Indian and the Atlantic,
holding the oceans at bay, thrusting
its vertebrae high; a knuckled bulk
grabbing for blistering fistfuls of sky.

Where Africa's eyes drain into the Rift,

elephants wander in slow herds, shift across

plains, scour boulder strewn scrub.

The long memoried elephant know all

about patience, and family pride -

and that there is joy in simple things.

Whenever they wallow in water or mud

they bellow their thanks to the Earth

for the indefatigable ooze

of its hide coating African blood.


Fidelity (from the book "TREES")

If I were allowed
I would

paint trees on walls.

They crowd the edges
of vision,
they scrape at doors.

If I were allowed

I would
let the beasts in.


Enter (from the book "Blue Bridge")

These houses have no walls.

You can see people eating
toast and bacon and fried eggs.

You can see late sleepers
slowly turning over to make love.
You can see clockwork mothers
preparing children for school.
You can see people dying.

You walk on through town,
follow the road out to a wood
entirely enclosed by a wall.
You enter through a gate

and all there is is mist.

As you step into it,
your mind empties

to make room for infinity.

Waves at Hawkwood (from the book "In Touch with Water")

This grass is like the sea;
I ride over it with big strides
uphill away from the spray of civilisation.
Deep breaths of green
rinse over my head and chest.

At the forest edge the water level rises;
trunks are awash with ivy.
The green sound of crows
flaps up from the valley
like wet raincoats.

Stalks bob buoyant heads
in the wind, and I take
the seed of their image
back with me towards the buildings
where roses cling to liferaft walls.

I walk in the translucent water
of silence.
The wooded hill behind the house
is a tall green wave
towering over the place.

(note that the three lines in italics can also be a haiku)

*

Thread of Mystery (from the book "Spirit Songs")

Earth is mother to the grass.

Trees are fathers - in their arms

the birds make their soft nests fast

and lay eggs - that shine - like stars.

In the rushes - a coot hides.

On the water - a boat glides.

Beneath the surface - fishes eyes

stare - through reflections - of the skies.

It’s the river - flowing to the sea.

It’s the river - between you and me.

It’s the river - can’t you see

that it’s the river - makes us happy -

..................... makes us happy.

We are in this world of ours

as lovers in each other’s arms.

We should have no real fear

of what our futures are.

The seal is a sister thing

to the deer and wolf running.

The sun’s fire is the brethren

of the ice and the howling wind.

It’s the river - flowing through the land.

It’s the river - don’t you understand

that it’s the river and the shady banks,

yes it’s the river and the golden sand -

....................... makes us happy.

All songs leave their water mark.

Whale’s voice echoes through waves dark.

Insects buzz in midnight park.

Lightning precedes a thunderclap.

Rain falls gentle on damp leaves.

Worms wriggle in ecstasy.

Get down on your muddy knees -

gaze - through the puddle - of our dream.

It’s the river - thread of mystery.

All of our kingdom - is a tapestry,

and this old river - it knows how to weave

between the pebbles - and the long green reeds…..

....... yes it’s the river .........
....................makes us happy.

Oh its’ the river - thread of mystery.

All of our kingdom - is a tapestry.

Yes it’s the river - oh can’t you see

that it’s the river - makes us happy -

...... yeah it’s the river ........ yeah it’ the river

...... yeah it’s the river ........
....................makes us happy.

Regeneration (from the book "Spirit Songs")

The river is my snake skin twisting,

my magic dream glistening,

my twinkling sparkling eye water.

The river is my life unraveling,

the rushing forward flow for freedom,

the deeper thought pools calming.

Once upon a time my spirit came

and saw the water always circling;

river, sea, and sky, and mountain.

Then my spirit knew that it was home

where time is now, and then, and was,

and will be forever looping and re-looping.

And the river is all one and part

of air and earth and universe and heart.

And the river water is our thousand thousand drops

....... of sunlit love.

In a Bishopswood Clearing
(from the book "Following Father")

I am sitting in the grass with a picnic

basket and a notebook.

The children walk away from me

flick flickety off at a tangent

between thin blotched beech trunks,

then turn like yo-yos at the end of their strings

and come back to me.

Slabs of sun and shade slash

their faces as they come

but do not cut as deep as the flex

of their emotions

grappling with some

small understanding of this

place, this time, we’re in.

 

Night Watch (from the book "Following Father")

There is the wheel

and there is the compass

There are the white sails

and there is the night.

There is the swell of water

and there is the wind.

I am frozen into tranquility.

Earth's magnetism hums.


Song of the Drakensberg
(from the book "Following Father")

Leave the laughing river,

shade of wattle trees,

incessant cicada throb.

 

Wade through rippling seas

of grass, chest high, dry,

hissing Africa's chant.

 

Reach first streaked rock faces

carved by wind and water,

caves daubed with paint.

 

Dancing Bushmen and animal

figures wake neural connections

with primitive past.

Climb higher, to where wind

shrieks war dance songs and clouds

make the sound of African drums.

 

Stand like a witch doctor

on the peak. Raise your hands

to soothe the brow of the sky.

Flow (from the book "Sacred Selves")

River, your expansive belly carries us.
We float like tiny squiggles, seeds

of thought, or sperm, graceful with

your body fluids transporting us so easily.

Endless life, no start no end,

there's actual peace in death -

with no bottom to the waterfall -

falling is true orgasmic beauty.

Existing in the embrace of the univers
we become only light - luminous and numinous,
in absolute spaciousness, silent, clear,

fertile, open - like snowfall or owls feathers

or swimming underwater. Look and see,

the river is a timeless flow, a twisting
magic ribbon, feeding and cradling
our yielding souls simultaneously.

Poem for Children (from the book "Spirit Songs")

Think of all those stars -
the sun, the moon, the space
that stretches on and on.

Hold that universe within.

It is within your hearts

for we are all one.

The knowledge is within
each one of us,
we know it in our dreams.

The power is within

each one of us

to rejoice in its existence.

The power is in your hands
to be true
and keep it beautiful.

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