White Light

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We dream of waking,
of really seeing each other’s face
in intense white light;
split seconds of reverie,
and pain – we shy away.

We dream of waking,
expecting and not expecting some catastrophe.
If it happened – the first impulse
would be to disbelieve it,
keeping balance,
believing
and not believing.

We dream of waking,
more spontaneous,
a state of consciousness,
self-transcendence,
so clear,
we see the contours of our lives
before the mist slowly gathers in.

We dream of waking,
as we poke our heads above the murky current,
as deep sea fishes – lungs filled
with laughter, the explosive gas
of exhilaration

We dream of reuniting
If not in this world, then in the void
Of nothingness, and we’d see our light illuminating
The darkness that kept us apart.
Then we’d dream of waking,
In the white light.

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Edale to Kinder Scout

The walk from Edale to Kinder Scout (in The Peak District) is a walk like no other. This heart of Derbyshire has become my home from home for many years. The ‘Dark’ Peaks offers such an array of terrain, which provides an endless source and inspiration for many of the poems, artwork and soundscapes found here at 67 paintings.

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Orchard of Dreams

We come back to the orchard again
a blue silence has fallen on us,
a moment’s curling breeze sways
ripening fruit, lifts leaves,
ruffles ferns and lilies,
clusters long underlying grasses.

We no longer know how we arrived here
or along what paths we meandered along,
as scents of something wild and beautiful,
like the passing breath of hope lingers
in its wake.

Still we walk in the meadow between roses
budding and the first leaves burgeoning,
the air belongs to the Larks who sings
for the sun, splashing colours towards sunset.

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Following this post, I received a wonderful poem from Mary Yaus, who wrote these lines:

Round and round she goes
thinking about,
nobody but she knows
but have no doubt
it is deep within her heart
radiating into her soul
holding on to life
with gentle hands
feeling vibrational bands
she looks deep into the eyes
reflecting of all her tomorrows
you can almost here her sigh
through thoughts in contemplations
not sorrows
round and round the carousel takes her
dreaming into the silence of words
waiting for her thoughts to be heard
she’ll grab the brass ring
and her heart will open and sing
letting the world see the grace she shall bring

Thank you Mary for adding your own wonderful contribution.

Lee and Isabel.