Birds on the Runway

A thin veil, a cloudy sky,
The flutter of settling wings,
Birds that stall our progress,
Like mice and lice and other little things,
Strange mix of phobia and respect,
Welds us to a past we loathe,
And yet they wait for us,
Those smiling faces on the other side,
Forever waiting, forever smiling
Forever hoping and keeping faith,
Sketching the good times to come,
How could we let them down ?
How could we mothball our dusty engines ?
We scatterers of the birds,
We clearers of the mist,
When will we change our minds,
And honour our forgotten selves ?
When will we stop using our past learning
As the light to guide us now ?

(This poem was inspired by looking out of a plane window as it taxied down the runway and seeing how a huge flock of birds suddenly took off from the concrete as the plane fired up its engines. It is a metaphor for all the 'little things' that can get in the way of us fulfilling our potential. So many excuses for not unleashing our true selves. Why do we do this? Because we are 'welded to a past we loathe'. Yet we know there are people who have fulfilled their potential, we know how happy it has made them and we know they believe we could do the same. The poem challenges the reader to start to move forward, to 'clear the mist', to 'scatter the birds'. The last two lines are taken from the book 'A Course in Miracles' , they challenge the limiting belief that past experience is the best guide to future possibilities.)

Biting the Strawberry

If I snapped off the future claims
And the past travails from this holy instant of Now,
I can sort of see how something new would break free,
Something fearless, smiling and aglow,
If I could live in that space inbetween,
Then I can sort of see,
How my bruises would be healed,
And my expectations rendered obsolete,
Yes, I can sort of grope for this new domain,
And I can sort of open the door,
Sort of free and straight and star spangled light,
Sort of born again in each moment's grace,
Sort of heaven, sort of nice.

(The title of this poem comes from a zen koan - see http://www.zenstrawberry.com/about/ . It is about living in the present moment. The 'space inbetween' is the present moment between the past 'bruises' and the future 'expectations'. The repetitive use of the phrase 'sort of' implies that, on the one hand, this feels like an easy step to make but, on the other, it is strange and full of trepidation. The fear of who we really are?)

Closer

So far now, So far now,
From the tents below
Beyond the tiny point
Of no return
A bridge collapses behind
A rock falls past in silence
To leave the sound of breathing
Breathing in, Breathing Out,
Where are we taking we ?
With our new lungs and limbs
Where are we taking we ?
In this matrix of opportunity
What keeps us going ?
Save the spiritual rope between us
What keeps us going ?
Save the thrill of tomorrow
And looking out on a new sky
And pausing to drink in our laughter and say our prayers
Before commiting ourselves again
To find our highest selves in this changing world

(This poem uses the metaphor of mountaineering to explore a journey of personal development. The 'tents below' represent the starting point of the journey. The 'collapsing bridge' means that there is now no way back. The traveller is left transfixed, frightened yet exhilarated by the possibility of going further. The poem shifts from the 'I' to the 'we' as the traveller recognises that he/she is not alone. There are other travellers on the mountain side and in that realisation can be found strength, excitement, laughter and the shared will to move on another step.)

Bring it Home

Bring it Home,
That which we have found,
Bring it Home,
Make the stories shorter,
For you are the seed,
And this is your garden, your back yard,
Let them know that the knot has torn open,
That which bound our vision,
Let them know that the gates have swung free,
There is no other side of life,
There is no dark side of the moon,
Save in our child-like dreams.
Bring it home,
Make the stories shorter,
For here is the heart of our concerns,
The cradle of our courage,
Amongst the love that has not been forgotten,
And the lives not left behind.

(This poem is difficult to grasp at first read. It comes from the depths! It is open to many interpretations. One interpretation is that it is speaking of the end of a heroic journey when the hero needs to return home, and home is where the heart is. The 'stories' referred to are the dramas and adventures of everyday life. 'Making the stories shorter' refers to getting away from the drama and returning to the things and the people who are really important. Often these people are close by but are ignored or neglected in the rush to make an impression in the world. The hero also returns with 'good news' from his/her travels, 'the knot has torn open', the dramas we were taught as children are not necessarily true ; they are modern myths that keep us small. And the alternative to coming home is to 'leave lives behind' and to 'forget the love'. How many of us have done this then realised our mistake too late?)