the swaying of the grass

​

 

1.

 

a path leads,

to where wild grasses grow,

sashaying in the summer breeze.

 

2.

 

along the path,

lightness settles within,

feeling the grass,

swooning,

tickling ankles,

swaying to lilting bird-song,

a dance of intimate abandon,

brushing remnants of pain away.

 

3.

 

melodies float across fields of green,

delicately caressing my heart,

teasing emptiness to flee,

comforting the mind,

to silently be.

 

4.

 

walking on,

savouring the peace,

a momentary respite,

casting off burdens of the now,

all is quiet,

a stillness cradling fractured emotions,

the grass in the fields sway,

dusk descends,

shadows lengthen,

nudging dimming light to take leave of the day … … …

the duality of time

time

erodes

loves lives hearts

souls spirits selves …

time

mends

wounds

souls

a salve

a balm

knowing

in the end

there is always

only

stillness

silence

peace

calm

​lives | lies

and when all lies are spewed,
intricate threads promised,
eternal jazz and all that,
only to be summarily screwed,
by words of fluffy dreamscapes,
by incantations of endless service,
by mouthed lies,
time after time,

even as time flies,
the only constant – lies.