If you are going in the wrong direction there is no pointt hurrying.
Don’t start walking until you have had a very good look at where you are literally or metaphorically.
.Have you got a map?
If you wear spectacles clean them
In any case .more haste less speed
How do you no if it is the right direction?
By instinct or intuition and by conversations with a good friend
But don’t wait for too long as you might grow roots.
When we walked I held your hand in mine
We walked round a small lake to see geese fly
We sauntered, in a rhythm were aligned
Time had stopped, the geese in circles climbed
Then swept onto the path as we came by
When we walked I held your hand in mine
Like a natural god, the geese divine
Landed in their beauty with a sigh
We entered a new rhythm, were aligned
On the shining water geese in line
Float and hunt for food with little cries
When we walked I held your hand in mine
In our garden for your love I pine
I may never love another till I die
We sauntered, in a rhythm were aligned
God is on the mountain with his lyre
Singing of the beauty of desire
When we walked I warmed your hand in mine
We lived attuned to love until you died
Photo by E.L copyright
The ducks swim in the gaps between the ice
Cold blooded , yet kept warm by fluffy down
The river looks uncertain in this light
The sky hangs like a curtain of snow white
The sun, precocious, shines and then it frowns
The ducks swim in the gaps between the ice
Ah, think of Morecambe Bay in sunshine bright
Across the sea the Pikes stand out so proud
My river looks uncertain in this light
Britain’s mountains fierce attract like vice
Like alcohol or sex or low cut gown
Unknowing ducks swim on despite thick ice
Thanks to God for hearing and for sight
The mystery is the Love which was disowned
My river looks so cold as comes twilight
Here is Bethlehem, the little town
Where Christ was born and grew to be cut down
The ducks swim by, the swans walk on the ice
Look up and see the geese in Advent flight
Leaves have gone so suddenly
Small birds float on the wind
Like boats astride a choppy sea.
Their swaying soothes my mind.
Wild geese fly past at dusk again,
They head towards the North.
The holly berries glow in sun,
Nature gives joy birth.
I gaze intently at the sky,
The clouds hang dark and low.
If I too were a mere wild goose
I’d know which way to go
But I am left with only words
To find my destination.
Yet words do carry down to us
Wisdom from past generations
We use old words in unique ways.
We structure them to form
A new design not seen before
A new sentence is born
I send my words with love to you
I hope you safely catch them.
Give me answers from your heart
And I’ll do my best to match them.
I wish that we could hibernate like trees.
The sap sinks low ,they lose their lively leaves.
But in the spring they flower and then they bud.
Here’s to the Resurrection of the blood
Rhttps://www.psychologytoday.com/gb/blog/living-emotional-intensity/202201/5-symptoms-repressed-anger
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Some people have learned from their families, schools, or religion that anger is a bad or even immoral thing. They become afraid of the power of their own rage. When anger emerges, they feel an intense inner conflict. Simultaneously there is a force to squash it all down. They may immediately switch the focus onto other people’s needs, or ‘what the situation needs from them,’ rather than their own needs. To avoid conflicts, they opt to be the listener or peacemaker and will do anything to maintain peace and harmony.
This tendency is especially common among the emotionally sensitive and highly empathic. Their life experiences have taught them that they are ‘too much,’ ‘too dramatic,’ ‘too outspoken,’ ‘care too much about small things,’ etc. To fit in or even just to survive, they have learned to silence themselves. In conscious or unconscious ways, they try to curb their own excitement and energy. As a child, they kept their head down so as not to upset an already depressed parent, or provoke an aggressive one. Their role in the family was the mediator or the invisible one, and they would do everything to not bother anyone with their emotional needs. They would rather appease others to keep the peace than to express it and risk having a confli
The geese flew high across the sky tonight
My heart expanded with their rhythmic play.
As if joy were a fire that could ignite
The geese flew high across the sky tonight
Heading to the North where there’s a lake.
I have never a swan in flight.
Who can take me to the Wash today?
All the birds I love should come this way
Continue reading “A triolet poem”
Dear father made Christmas a real treat
He cracked the walnuts with his feet
Hi Xmas crackers had real dynamite
His eyebrows were a very weird sight.
He got a gift for the cat each year.
Until the dog said that’s not fair.
So he said they should join with a human choir
Singing carols by the read coal fire.
The cat could waul in any key.
She could screech and moan so she got some tea
The dog could bark but could not speak
Otherwise he would have been a freak.
In the kitchen mother cooked the goose.
With all the family we could have scoffed a moose.
Is the plural of moose meese?
I have no dictionary what a beast
The Christmas pudding with a great delight
The silver sixpence always started a fight.
We had bird’s custard never cream
We had no fridge so it would have turned green.
The birds were so angry that they told the queen.
Ever since then she’s never been seen
We listened to the carols on the wireless set.
Cuddling the cat we called our pet
Dear father said we must go to bed
We always disobeyed him whatever he did.was such fun
He was such fun though very odd
When I was still tiny I thought that he was God.
https://www.nytimes.com/2021/12/15/magazine/grieving-loss-closure.html
The Myth of Closure” is also her attempt to make sense of simultaneously unfolding catastrophes in her personal life and around the world. “This is the first time I’ve raised ambiguous loss to a higher level regarding the pandemic, a societal level,” Boss told me. In trying to describe losses that society doesn’t always recognize, Boss might be helping us to rethink the nature of loss altogether.
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Image
My father was a very odd man
He cooked our porridge in a frying pan
He went to work and he came back home
Carrying a bag full of garden gnomes
He hated them with pure sweet hate
He buried them all by the garden gate
We had no garden we had no lawn.
Despite all that the Sun came up at dawn
He never had a car and he never had a horse.
He was an artist but quite untaught.
He wanted several children and that’s what he got
There were three of us sleeping in one cot.
Three more slept on the landing too.
We have no beds but a wonderful view.
My six older brothers slept in one bed
There was no light but they were very well read.
Then he died and left us all alone.
Please don’t leave any mobile groans
Turning points occur when we we must choose
The moment comes and it seems opportune
Can you still the voices cruel amused?
Find your own perspective, view the scene.
Turning points occur when we must choose.
Who to ask for guidance, and the means.
I feel pessimistic then enthused .
I shall ask my friends to be discreet
Better talk than be alone and brood
Rumination is no friend to me.
Better turn and see what is to be
There is a sweetness buried in my mind
there is water with a small cave behind it
there’s a mouth speaking Greek
It is what I keep to myself; what I return to;
the one thing that no one else wanted
Stern was sometimes mistaken in person for Allen Ginsberg and often compared to Walt Whitman because of his lyrical and sensual style, and his gift for wedding the physical world to the greater cosmos.
Stern was shaped by the rough, urban surroundings of his native Pittsburgh, but he also identified strongly with nature and animals, marvelling at the “power” of a maple tree, likening himself to a hummingbird or a squirrel
https://www.nytimes.com/2022/09/26/learning/is-anger-an-underrated-emotion.html
Learning to manage anger is a lifelong skill that allows children to function at home, in school and out in the world without losing control.
Ms. Pearson suggests several ways parents can help children express and manage their anger. First, recognize that anger is normal:
When it comes to kids and anger, it can help to remember a few simple facts: First, anger is a basic human emotion. And second, emotions exist to tell us about ourselves and our relationships, explained Dave Anderson, a clinical
How my heart speaks 