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“So what are you thinking and feeling right now
whilst you’re out there amongst Nature?”
I feel free! I feel open! I feel hopeful! I feel me!
I feel like I could touch the sky with my finger
just like I am touching the muddy ground with my booted feet.
I feel warm! I feel energized!
I feel home! I feel blessed
as the beautiful and golden sunlight touches my eyes!
As I walk through the forest though it is cooler
because the sun is radiating and being absorbed by the surrounding trees.
I can hear birds and the rustling of unseen animals all around me,
but they are so high and fast they are the dwellers
of this fertile land and sky that I cannot see.
Coming back here brings back so many memories!
Coming back here reminds me of so many happy times,
and it is like they are still there to be remembered
and felt by the touch of the cool but magical breeze.
Walking the fields, walking over the crisp brown leaves
and sumptuous green grass,
I have this sensation of feeling like an animal feels,
I have this urge to walk and run and forge my own path.
Everything is bright, everything looks new.
Everything I see is bathed in light,
and even that which is in the shadow cast by something else
retains it’s beautiful natural colour and hue.
The country lanes I walk have no natural footpath,
so I must walk on the road.
Cars and 4×4’s race past me and create a splash
as they drive through the puddles I too pass through-
out here there is no such thing as a Highway Code.
Out here where I walk there are little oasis’s
of rarely seen and hardly touched patches of Earth
that resemble my kind of heaven.
Out here you can hear nothing but your own heart beating in your chest,
sweet birdsong in the trees, and the faint sound of an airplane
flying high above in the sky that is skirting and almost touching
the atmosphere and making dreams a reality
and the passengers on it feel as if they are light as a feather.
I went out into the world today
with a new camera, a new outlook, a new focus-
the world felt like a light-blessed river
being sustained by a towering waterfall of rainbow rain,
sparkling mist, and beautiful lotuses.
There was something different about me,
about my surroundings, that I felt I could not ignore-
it wasn’t clear to me what had changed, at first,
but the minute that I turned everything off:
my phone, my life, my world, my hopes,
my dreams, my fears, my knowledge;
I realised that I knew nothing,
I realised that I had missed so much,
I realised that every moment of blessed silence-
when the only thing you can hear is your own heart-
is in itself an intergalactic door.
I captured and I became something new in that moment;
the windmill of life turned in the breeze- I became frozen,
I felt awestruck by a new truth that was echoing in every direction,
I was touched to tears by a new clarity
that cleared-away the cobwebs of my imagination-space
and exposed a new picture of reality to me
that felt natural, vast, free of pretense.
I looked at myself differently,
I looked at my life with new eyes through a new lens,
I became enamoured again by the faces and the memories
that I have saved my entire life of my family and my friends,
I saw the source of the divine and great muse of enlightenment
from where all thought stems.
This world, our collective meaning,
continues to amaze and inspire me.
If someone was to take a picture of everything that is happening
right now- every choice that someone made,
every thought that someone had-
what would that picture look like,
what would that picture make someone on the outside looking-in realise:
perhaps that they are in fact on the inside looking-out;
maybe such an image would change what it is about life
that means so much to you,
maybe such an image would enthral you,
maybe such an image would send you mad.
I felt like a lone lotus, bobbing up and down in a pond-
reawakened, exposed, open to the new tides of the future
and the new light of a new era;
I felt like I was beginning my life again,
with new depths to explore about the entire universe-
like the first photo of a new camera.
I am wide-awake at 1 a.m.
and I have just awoken from a dream,
in which crows and seagulls were at war with each-other
outside my bedroom window- in the sky, on the ground,
fighting for the air, the rooftops, the food to be found;
I dreamt that the crows and the seagulls were in the throws
of aerial-combat of the speed, manoeuvrability, and ferocity,
of a World War II dogfight- darting, swooping,
and attacking like winged-warriors of black and white.
4 a.m. and I am awake again.
I decide to read a book,
then I listen to some music,
then I return to my book again.
I am restless. The sun has yet to rise.
I get out of bed and decide to make myself a cup of tea-
the rooms of my home are dark, but I know this house so well
that I no longer need to rely on my eyes
to find what I can’t at first see.
I can’t remember what I was dreaming about before I woke up this time;
if I recall correctly I felt like I was still awake,
but I was definitely still dreaming-
the world looked familiar, but it didn’t make sense;
everything around me was something I felt a connection to,
but it was as if they were not mine.
Seven o’clock in the morning. I open my eyes, I close them again,
and then I open them wide, wondering whether I am awake, dreaming,
or in-between places, and I look again at my surroundings to be my guide.
Before I awoke, I dreamed that I was walking the streets of a bustling city-
not knowing where I was going, but that I had somewhere to be.
The city was full of people that I knew well,
I felt like I was walking through a memory-
everything seemed so detailed, real, clear.
I could have been dreaming, I could have been awake-
at first, it was hard to tell.
I was walking across an open square, with people standing around talking
and people sitting on benches conferring with each-other,
and no one was looking at me.
I tried to say something, but I couldn’t make a sound;
I looked to my feet and saw a notebook and a pen lying on the ground.
I picked up the pen and started to write what I wanted to say in the book,
and I realised that the notebook was already full of words and thoughts
written in blue ink and written in what looked like my hand-writing
but scattered in all directions- as if they had been shook.
Then I looked up and everyone who was looking the other way
was now watching me;
one of the women sitting on a nearby bench stood up and approached me
and took the red notebook our of my hand, closed it,
and then gave it back to me.
I was confused, disorientated,
but I wanted to know why she had just done that-
so I approached the woman who had returned to her seat,
and then I saw that she was sitting next to and talking to someone
who looked exactly like me.
I looked down at my “other-self”
to make certain I was seeing who I was seeing,
and then my other-self turned his head to look up at me,
and with a smile and a nod of his head
my dream disappeared in a flash of light
and I was opening my eyes, closing them, and opening them again.
In the morning light, as I stare out my window at the outside world,
so bright and beautiful and cloaked for now in silence,
I feel that things are not what they seem.
I get dressed, I make myself a cup of tea,
and then I muse to myself about the things that happen in between dreams.
I am in love.
You are the only one that I think of.
I can’t believe I found you.
You don’t know what I have been through.
I saw perfection the moment that I followed your footsteps.
You live on the other side of a mirror,
but how I feel about you is what truly reflects.
I had to break my own heart in-two to let my love flower
so that I could show it to you.
You gave me something a long time ago,
but you never knew.
I am so lucky, blessed, alive,
because of what you gave me.
You made me believe in hope and goodness for the first time in a while-
you were like pure white moonlight on a dark sea.
I can’t forget the beauty of your smile,
I can’t deny the tender touch of your distant kiss upon my heart.
You are the inspiration, the paintbrush, and the colour, of my art.
I feel people moving away from me;
but you just keep getting closer,
you never go anywhere I cannot see.
I look at your face, I look into your eyes, and I become lost in you.
You look back at me, and the universe feels like
it has been reborn in my chest,
and I see everything that I love about life
in everything that you say and do.
I swear that I am staring at a dark-haired Angel
when I see the sunlight shine on you from behind,
making you look even more gorgeous as you glow.
You are all that I, or anyone, could ever wish for, or ever want.
You are incredible, you are stunning;
you are summer, you are star-light;
you are ocean-breeze, you are bliss.
I want only what is best for you.
I wish our voices didn’t have to carry so far to talk to each-other.
I thank the universe for bringing us together,
so that I could say I love you
and give you the gift of my Valentine’s kiss.
Snowflakes swirl, fly, and dance, in the air,
as they slowly descend to the already white-covered floor-
billions of intricate and perfect frozen tears
dusting and blanketing the world before me.
It is like standing in the middle of a snowglobe.
No one can see anything in front of them,
everyone just jeeps going as best, as fast,
and as caustiously, as they can-
not letting the weather keep them in one place,
not even this unrelenting snowfall.
Seeing familiar landmarks veiled below frozen fields
that makes everything look indistinguishable from everything else,
a new world reveals itself, a new light shines, a new beauty arises,
the sky becomes the Earth, the Earth becomes the sky;
the sun is obscurred from view, all is bright,
and suddenly every-day things that you may sometimes miss
start to catch your eye.
A red british postbox has never looked more amazing
and glowing than against a white back-drop;
roads and motorways have never seemed more ghostly,
nor more other-worldly, than when you drive down them
in the middle of a blizzard,
when you are relying on the lights of the vehicles
in front of you to save you from coming to a sudden,
immediate, and perhaps costly stop.
Walking on what you cannot see,
walking on something that you have to constantly reteach yourself
how to walk on with every step,
makes you think more about your surroundings,
forces you to not take anything for granted,
and to expect the unexpected-
it doesn’t take much to take a false step in the snow below
and seconds later to find yourself in a skid.
In this weather you need to wrap-up warm, keep on the move,
stay dry, make the most of every shelter and cover that you come across,
don’t rush to wherever you are going, give yourself time, stay inside-
the snow can seem like a disruption if you have got somewhere to go;
but you cannot not appreciate its beauty, its magic,
its gift of contemplation-
nothing else opens your eyes to the world more wide.
Looking at the world, staring at the white cloud-covered sky,
at the snow-carpeted ground, and at the bare branches of the trees,
while wearing the biggest and the warmest coat that I could find
to protect me from the cold and the ice-
I look at where I am standing,
I look at the landscape that nature is remaking,
and I smile to myself at the thought that, as things stand right now,
this must be the most perfect winter wonderland that I have ever seen,
and it would be the most sublime snowman’s paradise.
As red poppy petals fall through the air
against a perfect bright-blue sky;
life-long soldiers watch with tears in their eyes,
children look up in wonder-
the smiling faces of boys and girls are of pure joy,
while the haunted faces of the battle-scarred
can only look-on as they hear the sound of distant thunder.
A storm begins. The raindrops that fall are slow in their descent,
and when they hit the ground they are almost unnoticeable;
then, within seconds, the droplets multiply,
the clouds darken- turning day into night-
and the wind wails like a weeping angel.
The rain is like a curtain,
a screen showing the power of an untamable nature-
the spectacle is so incredible that people in offices at work,
and people looking out of a window at home,
have to open a door or a window,
because to them this is a ground-breaking, amazing,
summer show of a feature.
Lightning creates patterns of light and sound
against black clouds the colour of outer-space-
that make you feel like you are under the influence
and the control of something that can stop you in your tracks
and make your heart race.
Two different skies, not that far apart.
One sky, two different people from two different worlds,
but who are of the same world, and who have the same heart.
We live on a shared world,
we all live a shared life,
we share a history with one-another
even though we may never meet face-to-face,
and we all share the knowledge, the feeliing,
and the gift of being alive.
No matter how young or old you are,
no matter if you have been blessed your entire life with everything,
or whether you have lost your sight-
the thing within you that makes you who you are never goes away,
and can be felt in someones voice,
or seen in the twinkle in someones eyes,
if you listen for, and if you look for, the light.
In the warm golden air of a summer night-
as birds tweet, chirp, and sing,
as the world seemingly stands still to catch its breath-
all that I can think about and daydream about
is the beautiful muse who has just walked into my life.
The second that I first saw her,
my eyes and heart felt as if they had instantly doubled in size;
the second that I first saw her,
my gaze was fixed on her wherever she went,
and my face could not disguise
that she had captured my heart
when she looked back at me with the sweetest of smiles-
one that you would wish to see for the rest of your life,
and for the sight of which you would overcome any trial.
I knew that she was special from the first time that we talked,
I can barely remember what we said to one another-
I know that she laughed at a joke that I made,
but if I am being honest my body never moved,
while my mind ran, jumped, and walked.
Every word that she spoke to me
I heard as if it were a beautiful symphony,
or a gorgeous, moving, verse of poetry
that had no end, nor any limit to its depth-
every movement of her perfectly formed mouth
was, is, like a sudden, invigorating, energizing,
inspiring, intake of breath.
She makes me feel so happy when I see her,
so much so that I cannot wait another second
until I raise my head again
as she greets me with her eyes as I greet hers with mine-
I am so looking forward to seeing her again
that I can feel a tingling all down my spine.
I am so awestruck, and infatuated with this angel of destiny
that I am excited about the future and what will be,
so much so that I do not fear the loss of judgement,
nor my sense of perspective;
because, even though we have only known each-other for a short time,
I feel closer to her than to anyone I have met before-
and maybe that is why I feel so much for her,
and why, towards her, I feel so protective.
The infinite photograph of memory
is one of the most important, one of the most amazing,
one of the most powerful gifts in all of creation-
to see the detail beyond the snap-shot of the instant,
to remember and to relive every vibration,
to again be able to go back and talk to a long-lost loved one or friend,
simply defies explanation.
It can be hard to hold a picture in your hand
and to see the face of someone who you cared about at a time of great joy-
someone who you knew your entire life,
or perhaps someone who had an entire life before you even knew them,
whose after-image not even death could destroy.
A photograph of someone who made an impact on the world,
and on all who knew them,
can stir-up so many feelings of loss, torment, and pain;
however, an infinite photograph-
an ever-sustaining, interactive, re-visitation zoetrope of the mind-
that exists on another plane,
can reunite parted hearts,
and keep alive a shared capture of light and life that will forever remain.
It is in our dreams that our infinite photography develops fully
and reveals its meaning and infinite depth-
in dreams a blind man can commune with sound and see it for all its richness;
in dreams every facet of everything is remembered and felt intensely
by those who are deaf.
Our eyes see more in a single second
than our perception would have us believe;
what we think we see,
and what every region of the hemispheres of our brain
actually save, contextualize, and connect,
would be too much for our waking mind to interpret, or believe.
Infinite photography came into being the instant
that the first life on Earth became fully conscious of their sentience-
at the moment when eyes opened wide
and let in the light and shadow of all that surrounds-
that was when clarity first shone,
and the world started to make sense.
By the time of our last blink
the lens’ of our eyes will have exposed an endless album of multi-coloured,
multi-textured, multi-sense, infused pictures
that we have been witness to every second of our life’s path-
a breath-taking mosaic of our own making,
that will be the indelible flash of our life’s infinite photograph.
Everything
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 