Tuesday, 17 September 2013

Conjuring Tricks


I leave my poems like spraint
On a rock by the riverbank,
Caught in waving grasses –
Stripping down to bathe naked.


Light of three parts of a moon
No stars
But pinprick lights of aircraft
Reaching beyond the city’s horizon.



Pushing at the boundaries
To rediscover the limits of Being
Learning of the fears of self limitations
Setting free the becomings of fullness.


Now the sun loses its edge of heat
Standing at the cusp of light and dark
As the cycle slips around
Circles within the gift of circles.


Out of the dust and rubble
A garden landscape emerges glistening new,
Beauty's revealing conjuring trick
Wiping away the sheet. 








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