Monday, 5 November 2012



He is out today.
Every bird is singing his name
every tendril towards him yearns,
each drop of morning dew
reflects the ocean of his grandeur.
The curtain of blue has lifted
to reveal a glory of Sun resplendent.
Sometimes behind a gloomy cloud
He hides in mischief sulking.
But having glimpsed in undergrowth
the hem of his robe, I know
that he is somewhere about
and enjoying the play.

Look who just flew into the room
in food-moth form!
searching for a flame
in which to be consumed.
Sometimes you wrap
Yourself in a cloak of pain
to chisel away at my basalt rock
an image of thy Name
and other days you send
a Cup of nectar
for my honeybee soul to humbly sip.

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