Written March/April 2016
It is the beginningless of the endless,
and the birds are colonising our
I put my head down.
It is so, so quiet, for a few hours, until I must stir at 4.45. I couldn’t dream of anything more exquisite, and extraordinary.
I never know when
will take me someplace
deeper than I could ever go in this body.
all relative of reality,
and bordering with divinity,
just as I Am right here now.
Sometimes, I remember things.
Like, walking through Auxerre, or Alicante, or even Jepara (where they sell the most beautifully carved hardwood furniture of central Java). Or I remember sitting in a small plantation of Christmas trees, surrounded by police and angsty protesters, screaming out to Divine Mother and Lord Shiva. And I remember times of immense intimacy with different girlfriends. And I remember, a lot of the time, different motorbike journeys I had, and experiences I had when I had the bike. And I remember those four days I had at the vegetable factory in King’s Lynn, and different experiences whilst surveying. And I remember mascoting, and feel sad sometimes when remembering mascoting. And I think of family, and different friends, and ‘Happiness is only real when shared’….. And I’m so so often getting thoughts become intense imaginative cycles about where and what I will be at the end of this year…
We distract ourselves
from what is deeply surging us onwards.
We get caught in cycles of thought and imagination
that takes us away
from the dazzling sight
of the ice-crackling beauty
in front of the very cornea
that gives us form
And we will scream
at the oppressors in front of us
One and the same