Don’t ask me to swallow my feelings

like stones to sit

undigested heaviness

in my guts

Grant me space to speak

Hear me, honour me

so we both have oxygen 


Do not ask me to

just get on with it

To concrete over flowers

from an inner garden

I have taken years

to unlock

Celebrate all that I am 

as I celebrate you

Feel with me to the roots of a tree,

Through rigid coats of fear,

Between fast words to an indisputable truth

My heart is calling 

it is safe

It is safe


Your big white horse

put down your weapons

And rest and cry and breathe

Allow my slowing down

To rub off on you

And let us sketch with eyes

Earth lungs against a peach and purple sky

Let us value a new value system

consciously embodied

scintillating new world  





Can you keep peace within

when the noise without

builds and builds in fear

can you keep faith in the face

of a world fragmenting

spinning in emotion and tears?


Can you keep heart and mind open

when the roof of your life

creaks a threat of collapse

when the storm is roaring so violently

a dawn seems impossible perhaps?


Can you hear your own truth when all around

a story is screamed that’s not yours

can you feel to your roots

an anchoring trust that guides you in universal laws?


Can you find ground within you

to seed a future you wish to nurture and grow

and water it with breath so present

that light lives as above here below


I undo all the doing

all the twining of threads

that bound me in systems

never designed to set free

One at a time 

I unpick the knots

tied by 

school, church, TV

Lovers, friends, family

I release myself from all structures

that held my power down

so skilful in their construction 

invisible to the trained eye

so I un-train my gaze

un-civilise myself

excavate deeper and deeper

Till I unlearn

till I remember

till I am 


If you’re not sitting on your throne

Who is?

Phantom rulers weaving tight

the fabric of your life

to keep you bent low for crumbs

contorting your Self to twisted shadow

casting what others want over your life

not truly serving anyone

voices which are not yours

drowning out the song of your soul

in the crowded cacophony

of the market place world

What would your life be

if the invisible chains were seen

your crown in the dust


if you cut yourself free

your face

toward the sun

If your every gesture

sprung from a

spring of pure being-ness

Flooding our desiccated kingdom

Into an oasis of renewal

What if you ordained yourself

Sovereign of yourself?