Salvaged in mid winter

I look for you, like a full moon rising.
Turning the tide on my sunken sullen state.
Each hour drips away, like a painting of regret.
Washed away in the fresh rains you bring to a crumbling soul.
You hold me carefully like a bruised apple.
The bloom of happiness spreading in my heart.
I hold your heart, like a precious artefact.
With tears that have now begun to retract.
Because of the light you shine on our patch of earth.
Those seeds sown in September, break through tough winter soil.
Finding new life from the Christmas lights that sparkle.
Dancing on the leaves, like frost in the morning.
Peppering our steps with a carpet of wonder.
This song will remain, and I will know its tune by heart.
Etched into these bones until time fades.
The harvest of hope in the winter cold.
A chance to dance once more into the future.
With you right by my side.

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Burn upwards

You, like a million pieces of an eclipse.
Falling on me like a Friday night.
You pepper my world with smiles.
Like stars peeking out of the black blanket of night.
You take me to such gravity.
You ask me to disengage.
A resistance that seems futile as I wash in your orbit.
Streaming down into the sapphire sway of your words.
Licking at my mind.
You, like a light in a field at night.
Leaving circles across my heart.
I count the halos. I watch for the dawn.
And you stay.

The Star tonight

Deeply spun, sugar turn.
On this memory in my head.
Eating lotus flowers in the sun.
It never rains.
Now, the canvas is self-populating.
While the bees buzz like poets in despair.
Always on, like an evangelical station.
Trying. Try. Tried.
Succeed.
The greatest to ever awaken.
All sussed out and ready to shine.
Like the weekend every day, and Friday in his eyes.
He doesn’t even need to try.
They may forget him in a turn of the page.
The turn of the screw of humiliation.
But they cannot forget how he made them feel.
Leaving lotus leaves and petals on the floor.
Climbing back to heaven.

Little book of hope

With all the darkness and fear in the world, it is very important never to give up hope. Remember the potato; it grows down deep in the soil, finding it’s way in the darkness to push and reach up to break the soil to find the light. Reaching up to god. Reaching up to survive.

A free book is available in order to help tip the scale to the brighter side of the world, when you feel covered in earth. Enjoy!

Hope

Exuberant voices

The crystal bell in this head rings out.
Shattering the dark, sending the bats into flight.
Cavernous places these thoughts do dwell.
But the night light beckons and calls.
Whispers catch on the summer breeze.
Emerging back into a world unfamiliar.
They trickle down the spine, in thoughts so sublime that they leave me restless.
Waiting for the tide to turn.
How they put up streamers and plait the hair of my age into golden weaves.
Singing me to sleep with their lullabies.
These exuberant voices compete to lift this heavy spirit.
Bringing the heavens and the sky down to me.
But back in that cave, behind the rocks and darkness.
Lies a thought, a niggling worm at the core of me.
Now asking, these voices I hear; why are there more than one?

W/B – Fishing for light

To read the previous installments, click here

It was not the nature of the lady of the jars to be idle. Though she lived a somewhat idealised life, she was never one to shy away from work. Though her magical abilities helped in many ways, she believed hard work and action were the ways to get things done. She respected the powers that had come alive within, the knowledge that had been entrusted with her. Which is why she was keen to spring to action in helping the girl who had fallen from the stars.

There in her small kitchen, she watched as the girl curiously looked over her book of magic, wondering what they could both share with one another before the end. For she knew an end was coming, and every end had a start.

“Right, I think we’re going to need a little bit of help.” She said, looking deep into the azure wells that seemed etched with blue veins, the lamp light catching her eyes in a hauntingly special way.

“What do you mean?” the girl asked, no fright or reservation gave way in her voice. Just curiosity.

“Well, though we are protected here in my little cottage; and the snow will offer us more protection, there are things outside that I’ve begun to notice that might try and make things a little tricky for us.” The lady said, looking out the windows into the darkened grey beyond.

“Where are we going then?” The girl asked, holding her wrist the lady noticed, her hand spread like a small mirror. The lady hesitated.

“Do you sense them too?” the lady asked suddenly. The girl blushed purple, or seemed to blush, for she was actually in the process of travelling beyond the walls of the cottage. Projecting a version of herself outside to look around.

“I see a man, and things I do not know of.” The girl replied, the colour draining now away from her face.

The lady sighed slightly.

“He will never learn I fear.” She said, going over to the window to take a look for herself. But the snow was thick and heavy, and obscured much of her view. She turned back to the girl. “We need to go to a place where the energy centres collide. We need to conjure something which is much beyond what I can store in a little jar. It’s a place not far, at the centre of the forest. There is a clearing and you will feel it before you see it. It’s a very special place but I’m afraid it does not hold the type of protection my cottage has. This energy, this magic is not owned by anyone. It’s powerful and magnificent. Like the electricity that runs in the big cities. Anyone can tap into it. We can light a room or power a bomb, it’s how we use it that matters.”

The girl looked on, thinking suddenly of her home planet Europa. Where the ice coral was used to power and give life to the subterranean cities. This power was never abused, but cherished; a blessing that had come to them. And then she remembered the coral she had taken the day she left. That which she didn’t need but had spirited away with her. Why she had, she still was unsure of. Something within her had told her to. The same conflicting voices that sometimes forced her to act in ways she knew were different from everyone else.

“Are you okay?” the lady asked. Noticing how the patterns on her skin had changed suddenly, taking on a metallic colouring, covering the skin in an almost armoury sheath.

“Yes, I’m fine honestly. Sorry, I was thinking about something…..This place we need to go to, is it far?” She asked.

The lady watched as the metallic colours shimmered away, and the aqua blue hues began to dance and sway once more. She was concerned, it was the first moment she had seen as if the girl was frightened.

“No, it isn’t far really. But we will need some help to get there, and to shake off that man who is outside and who you have now seen. He’s the gentlemen of the boxes and he thinks you are here to help him with something.” She said.

“Can I help him?” The girl asked.

“Yes, you can. But you shouldn’t my dear. For what he wants helps no-one but himself. Before this is over, I think he will learn perhaps the biggest lesson. For wheels are in motion now that cannot be stopped, even if the destination is still unknown.” She replied, going now to the cupboards in her pantry.

“Oh, I see. It’s funny how we slide so precariously on destiny’s string.” The girl said. The lady turned and smiled at her.

“Indeed, destiny brought you here. And it’s destiny that we can still have a hand in. Come, there are things to be done.” She said, grabbing a bag that was tucked away under one of the chairs. “We need a few things, but I must quickly go and wake Ezra.

The lady of the jars opened her front door, pushing aside the drifts of snow which had built up during the day. Out of habit, she kicked off the snow which had collected over her doormat, revealing a ‘Welcome’ that had been hidden by the snow that the overhang had failed to protect from. Stepping outside, she got a greater sense of what was now out here. She had known the gentlemen of the boxes was around, she had sensed him earlier. But now she felt something else, and she reached quickly into her pocket and took out two coloured vials. They glowed there in her hand and in the dark. She took the red one and popped the stopper out with her thumb. The contents rushed upward and dispersed into a small cloud in front of her. In the blink of an eye the red vapour sped away and around the house. It collected back in front of her and she could see then in the smoke what it was. They had left their mark, staining the ground and the space where they had been.

“Dimian” she said, her breathe dispersing the red cloud in front of her which drifted quickly up into the sky, lost suddenly the in the snow which continued to fall. Dimian were old, ancient creatures which dwelled in the ground. They weren’t necessarily bad creatures, just all consuming. They gobbled and swallowed all the power they needed for their epoch slumbers, consuming vast amounts of previous ancient magic to keep themselves sustained. They did not discriminate on who or what they devoured. The Lady of the jars had her own protections against these creatures, but the sheer number of what she had seen in the cloud gave her pause for thought. Clearly the landing of the girl, and her cosmic concentration had woken them, fuelled them to seek out this treasure trove of power. She would have to be careful.

Inside the cottage the girl went about collecting the items the lady had asked for and adding further layers to her clothes in preparation for their journey. The lady now walked swiftly to the middle of her garden and took the other vial she had in her hand. This one glowed strong with a yoke yellow light. She reached a mound in the middle where a small stature of a boy stood, a fishing rod holding up a huge lantern that flickered out a warming flame in the dark. This was one of her protective elements to her cottage. The boy stood as a guardian, casting his light and power around her little home. But he could also do more than that. She cracked the vial over his head, sending the snow that had collected there up into the air like yellow dust. The vial smashed, but like that of an egg, as the yellow contents dripped down his head and covered his body. With a final flash of light the stone broke away and the boy came to life.

“Ezra, good to see you.” The lady said, as the boy swung the lantern on the fishing pole over her head.

“Brrrrr, it’s always so cold! Don’t you ever have a taste for warmer climates?”

The lady laughed. “Well, you are only wearing pyjamas. But you know me…” She said, a twinkle in her eye.

“That I do.” Ezra said, smiling a little and looking around. “Which usually means there’s a perilous task me for me, right?”

“Got it in one, but this time there is a damsel in distress.” She said.

“Really. Well, I would have put you more in the spinster in danger category myself.” Ezra said, putting the fishing pole under his arms so he could rub his hands together.

“You know, I could move for a more Grecian theme to your statured state, sans pyjamas!” she said, mockingly. Ezra looked around into the billowing snow.

“Alright, alright. Who needs saving this time?” He asked.

“Come, you can meet her and then I’ll show what we need to do.” She said, taking the fishing pole from him and opened the little door on the lantern. She tipped out a little flame which she hurriedly captured in a bottle she retrieved from her pocket. And placed it on the ground where Ezra had stood just before. It glowed in the dark and gave a warmth which melted the snow slightly around it. Looking like a sparking amber jewel in a sea of white.

to be continued…. 

I suddenly feel it

Under the floorboards it dwelt.
Dipped in diamonds.
Hard as nails.
A love that painted the corner of my planet.
Washed over me like black rain.
You creep into my bones like golden dust.
Strengthening and sturdying my soul.
This past is left in the darken room.
You turned off the light for memories that kept me awake.
No more grave digging in the sunlight.
Stopping instead, to smell the flowers.
Picking eternal daisies in the dirt of time.
Forcing me to be x-static, extreme like violence.
You are the colour in my skin.
Awash with happiness deep within.

Lucent

Consumed the visible but abstract.
Light, after all is but energy with intent.
Allow it to illuminate your veins, choke the strains;
and the dark cancer I could not eat.
Be not like the stirring waxing moon.
Capricious with its vanity.
It’s changing form to its circumstance.
Be strong, like the sun.
A burning fire that cannot ever go back.
Raging with reason, and a deadline to know when to stop.

Shine

The little lights inside that twinkle.
Burn bright and strong within.
A beacon like a church’s steeple.
To good, to god and sin.
Yet the ones that burn the brightest.
Must therefore burn half as long.
And your flame has burned the shiniest.
So soon, from our eyes you’ll be gone.
But do not let your eyes fall in sadness.
Or collapse into grey despair.
For your light has led the bravest.
Who will always remember you were here.

Lumière dans mes yeux

A crack through the blinds, a spark of light.
Illuminating my innards.
The fog that had rested so coldly upon my soul.
It goes by a name, so sacred upon my lips.
Like a prayer, like mantra.
It twists inside like the snake of time.
Devouring the dark.
Your name, your light.
Blazing across my eyelids when fall.
Steadying my soul when it’s suffocating.
Resurrecting my heart when in need of pulsating.
The light through the wall.

Looking at the distance

Where did the morning sun go?
That grew and flowered on my sleeve.
Made way for the darkening globe, and the urban noise.
Thoughts of you chased me though the city of Manhattan.
Tomorrow you settle into the victory, the arms of love.
Sidewalks and segues into different dreams.
The outback rattles and ransacks our minds.
Climbing higher than the skyscrapers, your dreads do climb.
If only I were a passenger, I would hold on tight.
Rushing like the ghosts through your bones to safety.
But you give me the directions, detours into chasms that are stained with your soul.
An inky black that creeps and dwells within.
And ask me to bare the light, to banish the darkness forever.
You ask all of this, as the sun rolls into twilight’s lap.
You pray for change and those arms of love that squeeze.
Careful like a dove, that hopes to soon be flying.
All of this, half a world away.

Don’t believe the past

Unwrap the dreams for another day.
Place them on the table while the time slips away.
Cough up a resolution, to the disorder and the chaos.
Let them take your blood type.
Dig you up like dinosaur bones.
These bones, so tired and hollow.
Broken from the strain of life.
Blink. Breathe. Begin.
Box up those nightmares.
Sweep the past into the corner of the solar system.
Douse yourself in oil and light a spark.
And blaze into a new collection of hours.
Of your borrowed time on earth.
For who knows how long we have.

Luminous lament

She knew, she hoped, she begged it true.
But despite her efforts, away they flew.
She always thought they’d come to save her.
To take the dark and be her saviour.
A light would flicker inside her heart.
A smile would spread, then tear apart.
She never found love that ever endured.
Or took her sickness and made her cured.
From a loneliness that ate away.
A sadness that had come to stay.
Until she read deep in a book.
That she could change her fate, and all it took.
Was to love herself and believe deep down.
She was a spark from god, with her own crown.
A little flame, could burn up bright.
If she believed, she could banish the night.
And though it may seem trite and sappy.
She could not rely on others to make her happy.
And by doing this and loving her heart.
She found her soul mate, her other part.
The light now shone for all to see.
A neon blur of serenity.

Gold in the blood

Red rain, falling like sulphur.
Staining the world and the paper people.
Fold, recycle, cut and paste.
A papercut on this heart, opening for the light.
Blow your love into my brain.
Mist my eyes and let me slip into a miasmic dream.
Heady and concentrated.
Addiction is my latest mission.
Feeling you pin prick my fingertips.
You rock, paper, scissor me out.
Winning through with luck and bad taste.
Sending stinging sensations through my blood.
Singing me to sleep with a silent orchestra.
You banish the ghosts from these cobwebbed chasms.
Empty of love and anything bright.
No we dance in the sun, shining like silver and precious stones.
You weigh me down with this gold you shoot into my veins.
Holding me secure, better than gravity, for fear I would float away.

Baptised by you

That endless world they talk of, it opened in my heart.
When you looked at me, with that light in your eyes.
And in that moment, like that pebble in your hand.
You grasped at the infinite, and you consumed my soul.
And we would remain forever bound.
Like that pebble in the ferocious stream.
Washed endlessly by the cosmic current till clean.

Cellophane

This picture of you, drawn out of such a moment in time.
Chiselled out of the clouds and into my eye.
I reached inside of myself, only to find you there.
Setting up a place for us.
A home, deep within the fathoms of my uncertainty.
Placing sticks and rugs over deep old wounds.
Silently you swell.
Sweetly you settle.
Patching holes and broken pieces of the past.
I radiate out a pulse, searching for something to slip away into.
But I’m up strung up in you willowed reaches.
Your horizoned heart.
Your memory beaches.
Ultimately I relinquish and peel off my skin.
The fuselage of fear splinters away and we brace for impact.
Washing ashore of this Elysium dream.

Coconut ice & candied eyed

These thoughts entertain me, for the hundredth time this week.
Dropping into my mind like pennies into a well.
I swing between actioned and complacent.
As you swing me back to forth in time.
This pendulum of your love.
Happy in the tinsel of us you deck me in.
Yet unrequited feelings of doubt then crawl in like a frost.
No doubt blossoming at Christmas time.
Fearful of the joy you offer.
Mindful of my usual self-destructiveness.
I cover you in cotton wool and hide you in the Christmas stocking.
Away from the mice and my thoughts of decay that would nibble away at you.
These hungry moths in my mind.
I swallow these feelings down.
Learning to live; not for tomorrow, but in the moment here with you.
Biting off only as much as I can chew.
As I wash away the taste of my usual foot.
Let me substitute for sweet candied swells.
Catching in my soul like coconut shavings.
Licking you clean of the sugar you must be covered in.
Savouring the delicious center of your love.

We come in pieces

I wander up from my youth.
Into this skin.
This life I now reside within.
Piled upon bones, this memory of time.
My bark of remembrance cracks. Splinters out a sap.
You were there at the beginning. Siphoning stars and melancholy.
You’ll be there at the end. Counting the receipts.
Adding up to the most magic number.
Sit me down by the stream and watch our lives drift by.
Baking under that hellish sun.
Pull the fingernails from my hands and spirit my soul off to another land.
Fold me into your wings of resurgence.
Build me up for another day.
I came to you in pieces. Forged form hands as light as feathers.
You weigh me down. You make me fly.
You count the eyelashes while I sleep.
You creep under my skin each day. Legoing out a body and mind.
One that leans towards you like a plant to the sun.
Photosynthesising your love from your light.
Every part, every cell. Each atom is stacked in your favour.
Circles and squares, and pieces of you.
Building up a dream.

Hold on to me

Our task is to transform ourselves into awakened multidimensional beings.
Thus fully merging the fourth and fifth dimensions into the third.
It is the inner union between Earth ascending and Heaven descending.
This sacred merger has already been achieved by many of us.
And numerous others are awakening daily as the Call steadfastly intensifies.
We are reclaiming our Divine Birthright and Heritage.
Remembering that we are Angels incarnate, vast starry beings of Light
who are no longer limited and bound by the illusions of time, space and matter.

We are ready to join as emanations of the One.
The new doorways cannot be opened or passed through,
by any of us still operating as individual beings of consciousness
They are brought into manifestation through our Unified Presence.
Through our focused intent.
Through our total commitment to serving our Higher Purpose.
This is the bridge to an entirely different energy patterning.
It is the step beyond the known dimensional universe.
It is a journey into the unknown which shall lead us ever closer to home…..

‘Hold on to me’ – By Placebo