Cancer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The scarab beetle rolls the pearl of soul along the shore

Far above the tide

And reaches for the Moon

 

Melanie, London, 1.4.2007

 

 

 

I want to go Home.

Where is my Home?

My celestial sister knows, and her arrow flies yonder …

But I reach for the Moon and say

“Please don’t leave me alone.”

 

Bali, 2.1.2012

 

 

 

Hands grasping precious stones

Gold chains bind and hold

Decaying flesh

 

Beady eyes

Watching motionless

For absent danger

 

I know what I know

I keep what I keep

A warden of Churches

 

I shall protect and keep safe

I shall keep out and keep away

I shall wile time away

 

A hoarder of artefacts

Lost meanings

Don’t touch

 

I am stranded

Brittle

Clawing

Longing

Mooning

Forgetting 

 

Ursula D., London, 2013

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Crab

 

Some days I stride into adventure,

 

But caught between tides, I fall back

 

And fumble among yesterday's treasure:

 

Lose the trail of crumbs that I track.

 

And so I search this mind-hoard,

 

Trip over another false start.

 

Until I remember my lesson:

 

That I am not bound by my past.

 

Sophie Juneau December 31st, 2013

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tides High - Tides Low

Pearls come.  Pearls go.

Taken, grasped, stolen, lost

Comfort me or count the cost

 

Sunflower, West Sussex, 30.12.2014