The drowned world

I recall the wet green smell of air

Walking with you sister down 1the lanes11

Singing as we walked with open mouths.

Tasting the soft pureness of the rain.

In the woods we hoped see the deer

Children from the farm came out to play.

We soon picked up their accents and their grins,

The cow called sadly for its calf that day.

The dripping trees in sorrow wept to hear

The plaintive cow in grief beside the house

Little rivers ran along the road

I thought I saw a hawk descend and pounce.

Drown me with your tears you awful clouds

For all the world with sorrow’s well endowed

The gravity of loss brought me to earth

apple-tree-and-sunshine1

The gravity of loss brought me to earth
Beneath the rotting leaves, I lay with worms.
I wondered if I were of any worth

No more to be enchanted by love’s mirth,
I  with unnamed particles was turned.
The weight of loss bears down the heart to eart


I  did not know the way but saw a path
While I slept a new design had formed
I learned I need not think of what I’m worth

My sorrow brought no guilt nor fear of wrath
I am the  eagle and the twisted worm
In my little grave, I  loved the earth.

Like the adder, shocked into rebirth.
I from silent underworld had learned
Not to judge my soul nor think of worth.

I shall not  fear the flames of hell that burn
When blackness is accepted, may one learn?
The weight of loss breaks down the soul to earth
With dusty shredded leaves, we then converse

Don’t lie so still

 Katherine  beautiful thoughtschildhoodCouragedeathemotionhow to liveimagessorrowThinkings and poemstruthfulnessvirtue  October 2, 2021 1 Minute

Ah,brother I don’t want you to lie still

No blood to circulate,no thoughts,no will

No help,no humour.jokes no

sharp true eye

From our old shared pram,to live, to die.

I used to do your homework

late at night

Abstract thought to you was no delight.

You wondered over X and y and z

Preferred the shapes of Nature in your head.

I shall retain the memories of the good

You who taught me speech and hate and love

Where shore and country meet

I remember Arnside in the rain

I remember singing, country lanes

The joy of woods that run right to the shore

The happiness that makes the hearts deep core

Beyond imagination I was pulled

Staring from the Knott I saw the gulls

Tiny vultures, eagles flying low

Looking for drowned sheep upon the shore

Paradoxes contradictions faith.

Nothing living now will go to waste

Life and death, the host, the requiem mass

The living whole, the patient Death of God.

Flat green leaves

Flat green leaves are saucers for the birds to sip from

See how cautious the blackbird is.

All of a sudden he flies up singing.

Rustling in the leaves of the apple trees with his body

No he’s looking at the cats water

What kind of rule book does he have ?

Dont tell me he wants the cats food

Red leaves are drying in the sun.

Time to go home now

Where ‘er you walk….cool gales shall fan the glades

Even sauntering through a concrete junglecan be like meditation.Being present to the people you meet like the checkout person,the waitress in the coffee shop,letting your dreaming mind wander over the faces of the people walking by and dogs walking on a leash with a mother and baby,the plants,the cleaners.. so many faces..being present is possible and better than ruminating over past troubles.

Drink your coffee outside,gaze and fall into a trance…it’s spring now and we can smell the soil changing with the sun and almost sense the bulbs pushing through into the small enchanted world of a planter in a busy mall in a town centre.

Of course I find it hard to be like that if I am rushing to achieve some goal.We need to be somewhat like clouds floating through the sky on the wind..without effort.I keep telling myself

If I can walk through a puddle or two and remember other watery joys;see reflections in the water and admire the poor trees ,in solitary planters. yet growing there even in such a place then a town centre can be a place to wander as the mind digests recent happenings and ponders on the mystery of existence[Don’t talk on your mobile as you walk if possible as that will ruin your walk and annoy the real people you pass]…I .take a look at them in all their assortment.. wish I coculd photograph them.

This is what I do… you may have a different way of being in such places…roaming and wandering are not so easy for city dwellers

but we can find a way…imagine we are on a sea shore or in a wood…

Learn to Write Fiction

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/07/18/at-home/coronavirus-fiction-writing.html

Though some people have knocked out an entire short story in a single sitting, it’s more realistic to see writing a story not as an inspiration-fueled creative binge but as a multiweek project. It’s one you’re a lot likelier to finish if, rather than waiting for the muse, you create the possibility for inspiration by planning a time and setting up the circumstances that will allow you to write regularly. It also should be fun! The act of constructing plots, developing characters and creating dialogue can be challenging, even frustrating, but I never find it boring, and it just might allow you to escape from your daily life at the same