I have a wound

I have a wound
From where the red blood flowed with clots that pained
Babies dead and nothing else remained
Yet I tried again and never knew
My interior a man might love to view
In childhood this place seemed so very small
Now it feels so huge, the size appalls
The envy of the plain, the vice of fools
This sacred space, a woman’s school
I have a wound

What is not a map

by Katherine in Farm shop

Is your glowing face a map?
are your tender ways a map?
what is not a map?
Is your open smile a map?
Is your deepest groan a map?
what is not a map?
Is my  too sharp touch a map?
Is my too quick glance a map?
what is not a map?

Is this sea green leaf a map,
Is this light red flower a map?
What sort of map is that?
Is the evening sky a map,
Is the silver moon a map?
Of what is that a map?
Is this entire world a map?
Is the sun-soaked sky a map?
Is this tiny child a map?

think I am a map.
Who can learn to read these maps?
Without love we can’t perceive;
Who can teach us how to see?

Can we look beyond the Map?
Can we look into the gap?
What can Love,now, read?
What Love now can we receive?

Connections,maps and roads


Photo by Sebastian Palomino on Pexels.com

Roman roads connected in straight lines
The cities they had built in wealthy times
The remains of one  goes past my garden gate
Do ghosts of Roman legions pass at night?

I like to see connections,maps and roads
Others  love  old cities ,walls and moats
My road ran to Lincoln  near the Wash
Migrating birds and swans  go there to rest

Going South, there is the Pilgrim’s Way
Canterbury, Becket,murder, prayer
Julius Caesar, Deal,  the Roman hordes
Boudicea,  and her fighting Lords

Layers of history, meaning,love and death
Still we argue  what should be our path

To lose maps and heart

I take you to be my raucaus. bedded lust -fiend
o have out on Bail
Make love in the Fall
For better for worse

To kiss and to curse
For witches with Euros

And those with olf bureaus
To witness our wealth
And have sex here by stealth
Till we ruin our health

And lose maps and heart
Until wrath does us part

And the hearse will not start
I love to be smart

Photo by Leah Kelley on Pexels.com