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Everyone has their own unique colour,
everyone has a way, a walk, a word, a wardrobe, a wish,
that is theirs, which perfectly describes and shows
a great deal about the heart that is constantly beating in their chest,
as well as the heart that they always wear on their sleeve-
like a child being held tightly by a mother.
Everyone carries a box of secrets,
everyone has hidden interests and thoughts,
feelings and loves, that they snuggle up to
when they are alone and in need of some comfort, or reassurance-
like an owner giving attention and affection to a beloved pet.
Everyone has a work of art that is a self-reflection
that they look at daily,
everyone can be everything they want to be,
and can feel things intensely externally,
and deeply internally.
Everyone is remembered by someone for being something,
everyone has been more in their life-time than they think.
Everyone has a favourite song, a favourite place,
a favourite thing to do, that brings them happiness;
everyone is a participant, an instigator,
an observer, a user, a witness.
Everyone is a scrapbook, an album,
a collection of special and shared memories and experiences;
everyone is a calendar, a diary, a phone-book,
of dates, people, fascinations, numbers,
and souvenirs of their travels,
that they have packed inside them and with them wherever they go-
like someone off on an adventure,
or off on holiday with their suitcase.
Everyone makes choices in their life
that feel right at the time they are making them,
which were always meant to be made the way that they were;
everyone feels great and warm in the sun,
and when standing in the rain everyone gets wet-
for some they actually feel better and cleansed
just by the act of being in and being touched
by the droplets of a rainstorms downpour.
I have an intense light within me,
and an overwhelming fire that no one could ever just describe
as a mere flash or a spark;
I have a sight, an instinct, a pulse, a passion for life,
a love of the best and the uniqueness of everything of Earth;
I have a life-long belief in hope,
and in the power of its effect, and witnessing hope,
and giving hope to someone in need, in any way,
is the key and the way to my heart.
Night is when I come alive.
Night is when I am free.
Night is when I feel my drive.
Night is when I am me.
Night is when the universe can truly be seen.
Night is when the sonnet of the stars can be read.
Night is when I go to the places I have never been.
Night is when I live the dream others imagine
as they lie asleep in their bed.
Night is when the heavens look there most beautiful.
Night is when the call of the wild can be heard.
Night is when people change into something
that connects them with that
which goes beyond the physical.
Night is when no one needs to utter a word.
Night is when you see, hear, and feel things
that take your breath away.
Night is when sound reigns supreme.
Night is when you look back and remember
all of the things that happened to you that day.
Night is when you reflect on the way things are,
the way things were, and the way things could have been.
Night is when the best stories are born.
Night is when we all cloak ourselves in the wonder of the dark.
Night is when the world catches it’s breath
before the awe of the new days dawn.
Night is when fire returns to being
the seed of its first spark.
Night is when we find peace.
Night is when we gain a new sight.
Night is when every dog is let off the leash.
Night is when we become the embodiment of the night.
I have probably said this a billion times in my life already,
but I swear that there is never a day that goes by
when life does not inspire, amaze, and surprise me-
every day I learn something new,
I see someone I have never seen before,
and if I am lucky my entire life is changed forever
in ways that not even I have the gift
to be able to describe and encapsulate in poetry.
Every day I am struck by a revelation about life,
the world, the universe, that electrifies me like a bolt of lightning,
and which fulfills a prophecy that I have had, seen, felt,
believed was one day going to come true,
and there are some days when my world feels like
it has been turned upside down-
but in a brilliant, magical, wonderful, way
that is unparalleled by anything else,
that goes beyond surprising,
and is incredibly exciting, and not for a second frightening-
which is incredibly enlightening, empowering, igniting,
like a spark, like a fuse-
which makes me feel like I am daily, hourly,
rocketing to the moon.
There are moments in every day, in every experience,
in every conversation with someone,
in every moment of noise, in every period of silence,
in every time of solitude, when I am touched by something
that takes my breath away, and literally makes me go WOW!
The things I see, the things I hear,
make me sometimes shed a silent tear
at living the life I live and being the person
that some people can only be when they are dreaming.
There is a reason for everything that happens;
there is a path, a plan, for us all;
there is something unexplainable and infinite
that makes life, and us all who we are,
and in the end everything that we see and feel
is like a sculpture, or a castle, on a beach
made entirely of sand;
there is a message being constantly broadcast to us
for us to read, interpret, and reply to in our own way
like answering a phone-call.
Nothing is accidental,
everything is a part of something more than at first it might appear;
having a feeling a connection with someone is natural;
you have to act on your instincts when what you feel
with every fibre of your being comes to you loud and clear.
Every day I have Original Moments of Great importance and significance;
every day I have Occurrences of Mystic Gloriousness;
every day I have Outstanding, Marvelous, Gifts
given to me- like a knighthood presented to someone
by a king or a prince;
every day I stop, I take a step back, in wonder and in-awe,
and out-loud people hear me say:
Oh My God, or Oh My Goodness.
My day began by catching a spider in a cup that was in the bath,
and then taking them outside and releasing them
slowly onto the damp pavement.
After I watched the spider walk away,
I re-entered my house, shut the door behind me,
but I couldn’t stop thinking about the spider-
it wasn’t fear, I stopped being afraid of spiders a long time ago,
it was curiosity, I think:
this instant thought about where they came from,
where they are going, what their life consisted of,
and how our lives, although different in some respects,
were so similar.
Walking in the rain returns me to yesterday.
The touch of the long grass between my fingers,
the feeling of the wind on my face,
the softness of the green grass that I am walking on-
memories flood back to me, I am tranquil, I am warm,
I am full of energy and life,
because I am standing in the most beautiful and perfect place.
The sun breaks through the clouds
and its golden rays instantly accentuate the colour that is always there.
Walking through Brueton Park, passed the glistening water of the pond,
crossing the wooden bridge that joins the lush green banks
of the River Blythe,
taking in a breath, I am instantly struck by the beautiful
and intoxicating smell of the freshly-mown grass in the air,
and I am reminded that in order to fully-appreciate what you have
you have to share what you experience every second
with as many people as possible-
because they too will thank you and fully-appreciate
the gift that we all cherish,
the connected moments of being alive.
Memories, photographs, recollections, moments in time,
are so important to hold on to,
because they are us, they are our lives,
they are what put the spark in the eye of humanity,
they are precious, small, forgettable,
but they are also insightful, inspiring, breath-taking, and immense.
Hold on to what you can, don’t throw anything away,
don’t take even the seemingly insignificant of encounters
and take them for granted,
bottle them up in your mind for a rainy day,
return to them often, and relive the experience.
When we are a child we are afraid of the dark,
and even as some people grow older
they cannot sleep without a light to assure them and to guide them,
even if that light is but a spark.
I used to be afraid of the dark,
I used to drift off to sleep while mesmerized
by the glow of a light-bulb underneath my bedroom door,
I used to look into the shadows
and make myself believe that I could see a face,
I used to listen to every sound
and wonder what it was that was walking unseen over my floor.
And then, one day all the lights went out,
my bedroom and my entire house were now only being lit
my the majestic light of the moon-
I remember my Mum coming up to my room and telling me by candle-light
that “everything was going to be ok, the light will be back on soon”-
and the most amazing thing happened afterwards:
everything was ok, the power came back on,
and with the light, and at no time that night, since then, or now,
have I not believed, without fear, that everything is going to be all right,
its all just a question of when and how.
Lights go out everyday,
but they always return to life brighter than they were before-
day, or night, whether in the sky, or right beside us on Earth,
seen, or unseen, a spark is always there, that no one can ever obscure.
I have found great solace in darkness
broken only by the light of hope within my dreams;
I have felt powerful inspiration from the assured smile of a friend
telling me that everything is not always as it seems;
I have been in a sea of uncertainty,
diving below the surface, before coming face to face with a fast-moving shark-
unmoving, unafraid, and unlimited,
I raised my head to look at the glittering sunlight above,
I closed my eyes, and I went back to the spark.
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 