A child born with a mighty gift,
her life destined to be riddled
with great pain and grief
as she faced endless trials.

In her youth, she has yet to learn
to control and tame her power,
thus her sleep is haunted by visions,
ones engulfed in true horror,
startling her awake, screaming
and her mother will come rushing
cradling her, softly praying
while she trembled, sweating.

i

Rogue memories
prisoners in a cage
blockages in the
arteries
of time and space

ii

Laced with sensuality
the illusion grows
the myth is perpetuated
the search
for the perfect satisfaction
intensifies
the more it intensifies
the deeper the entrapment

iii

Within your own head
within your own being
is a vast ocean
of freedom
navigate it
with cat like alertness
and quiet aplomb

iv

Spirited winter shadows,
silhouettes loosed and unencumbered.
In the rising light they joyfully play
Granted life, just once in each new day.
Black in the midst of golden vapours
Creatively dancing forest capers.
Each and every one, animated by the sun.

We all will be memories one day...
buried or cremated...
as times do change
those buried now
we know don't attend
others funerals in return
yet take up a chunk of land
lots of timber to burn
now electric cremation
is awesome
and
marble for those
who love to be buried....
Just for a day’s visit
every one year
so tis better to be cremated
save the vast lands and woods
and
all memories are the same
in burial or ashes
But it’s a known fact
that all will go