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I have written on planes;
I have written on trains;
I have written in cars;
I have written in bars;
I have written while working;
I have written while searching;
I have written on paper;
I have written on a computer;
I have written for someone;
I have written about someone;
I have written for myself;
I have written for my health;
I have written with a smile;
I have written while walking a mile;
I have written in tears;
I have written for hours that felt like years;
I have written in the sun;
I have written for fun;
I have written to make things right;
I have written just so that I could write.
There are two people in your life
who will always be a part of you every day,
wherever you go, whatever you do-
one of those people is your father, your Dad,
your hero, your strength, the one who will protect you,
defend you, work hard for you all his life;
and the other is your Mother, your Mum,
the first vision of beauty and perfection you ever saw,
and if you are as lucky as me
the kindest, the most caring, the most wonderful,
and the most amazing woman, and role-model,
you will ever be lucky to meet or ever know.
Our parents are the reason we are even alive
and kicking in the first place,
and if it were not for them we would literally
never have been born;
our parents saw our first moment, our first blink,
our first smile, our first adventure into unexplored territory
when we first set out on our own,
even if at first it was merely an exuberant crawl.
Our Mothers always know us better than we know ourselves;
our Mothers always want the best for us;
our Mothers always have an instinct
about what the next thing is going to be to come out of our mouths;
our Mothers always know all the names of the trees in our forest.
The best Mothers in the world would walk over hot coals for their children;
the best Mothers in the world would, and do, sacrifice anything
and everything else for their treasured offspring;
the best Mothers in the world would lay down their life for their child
in front of an oncoming train;
the best Mothers in the world would consider, and do consider,
the life and the happiness of their family their top-priority,
and they embrace every second of being a Mother,
and they love all the joy that honour, privilege, and gift, brings.
My Mum is smart, beautiful, fantastic, and true of heart;
my Mum is vibrant, special, funny, amazing, and unlike anyone;
my Mum is my soul, my friend, my conscience,
and she will be forever as she has been from the start.
My Mum is the greatest Mother, because she is always caring for others
like she always has her entire life,
and I am so lucky to be her son,
and I am the luckiest man in the world
that my Mother is my Mum.
“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.
All my life music has meant the world to me-
from birth, and forevermore, music of every voice, style, and tempo,
has seeded and grown in my mind like a tree.
All my life I have grown to love, cherish,
and make music a part of my daily routine-
music binds the days and the years,
and allows me to feel the memories of my life
and to understand there meaning.
My love of all music was gifted to me early on when I was a child-
my parents were the best: every night I would lie in my bed
and fall asleep to music and voices that made me dream and made me smile;
however, because I was so young, I didn’t understand the music’s beauty,
I didn’t understand it’s power-
I didn’t understand the images that my imagination created from the sound, that glowed, and grew, and awakened my creativity fire.
Every Sunday evening, my Mum and Dad would sit down with my sister and I,
and we would listen to my parents record collection:
gorgeously packaged black discs-
grooved and ingrained with some of the most incredible music of human creation;
songs about everything: love, heartbreak,
the past, the present, the potential of the future,
songs of dreams that are important to nurture.
My parents played songs that made me laugh,
and songs that made me cry:
one song in particular, Clannad’s beautiful ‘Theme from Harry’s Game’-
from the instant that I heard the first note,
and throughout the entire song,
my eyes would be like twin waterfalls;
but why I was crying, I knew not why-
even at such a young age, the profound beauty of the song
overwhelmed me, made me feel something, haunted me,
as it still does to this day-
the song that gets more and more beautiful to me with every play.
Over the years, my Dad would listen to Mike Oldfield,
The Beatles, John Lennon, and he would would say to me,
with tears in his eyes, that one day “you will listen to this on your own,
and you will love it as I do- because you and I are the same;
but, unfortunately, as I got older, all that I wanted to do was play video games.
Then, one Sunday, while my parents were out of the house for the night,
when I was about sixteen-years-old, alone in my room,
my Dads words spoke to me, and compelled me to fill the silence,
and give in to a truth that I could no longer fight.
So I went downstairs, opened my parents record cabinet,
took out and un-sleeved a vinyl LP called “Imaginations”,
I put the disc on the turntable, lowered the needle,
and then I stood in silence, in the darkness, with my eyes closed,
as the music that echoed from the speakers of the stereo
unified explanations, generations, and gave rise to revelations.
It all made sense, the universe made sense:
music, dreams, nature, words, voices, colours, began to condense-
I felt like life had come full-circle,
and that I now understood
everything;
however, this new enlightenment only made me ask new questions of life
that came to me like a flood.
As I have grown older, I have begun to realize more and more
that my connection and my love for beautiful music
has gifted me a great many of the treasures that I see everyday,
and for which I am unspeakably grateful for:
my friends, my music heroes, my favourite songs, musicians, singers-
like BT, and the beautiful Kirsty Hawkshaw.
I do not make music, but music is a part of me.
Music always will be what wakes me to invite in a new day;
music always will be the friend to assure me that everything will be ok.
My family are not musicians, but music is a part of us.
Music is what brings us together, music helps us dream,
music is what makes us feel free-
whenever I hear a piece of music, or a song,
that takes a hold of my heart and my mind,
so much so that I cannot express what it means to me in words,
I always think back to when I was a boy,
sitting down with my parents, in our home,
enjoying the wonder of a Sunday Symphony.
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 