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I want to lose myself in the forest,
Find shelter in the leaves,
Away from the panic, the stress, the solitude,
The misery of those horrid screams,
Of a world I want to leave behind,
ill with those who are asleep,
disconnected from the world that sings to us,
that welcomes us and gives us peace.

So hide me in your branches,
Clear my mind of greed,
Cure me of my ignorance
Protect me from my dream.

Now that my eyes are open,
I know my heart finds peace,
but I can’t rest a mind that beholds
the staggering minds that desperately
cling to their hungry needs.
Trying to find their way in a
nightmare
that swallows them in a vision of
money, sex and fame,
Not knowing the true freedom of
your holy Name.

In my heart I know your Glory is
With me as I walk,
Illuminating my soul to beauty,
even when it is
dark.
 

How they long for their big, bustling city!
Its crowds, the sounds,
the buses, trains, the cabs and trams,
the variety and colour of streets, the infinite shops, the choice of where to go,
the sights, the museums, the romance of night lights.
How every day is different, how varied the opportunities, the paths.

In my city,
the crowds fly and the sounds are melodies,
its inhabitants buzz, chirp, flow and hop by,
the streets divide into multitudes of colours and shapes, every inch as different
as two bricks are the same.
In the smallest of spaces there is infinity, and in the biggest, the choice of where to look,
and when the light shines, it fills the wholeness of space and the soleness of my heart,
the romance hidden in the little mysteries of a solemn sky.
How different each day is, how varied the opportunities, the paths!

Today I look upon that burst of pink,
the birth of buds,
the little droplets hanging from the pine leaves.
The branches, I notice, hang lower today,
the whiteness of the ground is of a different shade,
and while the birds sing as they did before,
I know their song is not the same.
The water that glides the surface of the stream is ever changing,
like the atoms that cycle in the dynamism of Life.

So I don’t long for my big, bustling city.
It goes with me wherever I go
Big as ever, no matter how small.
 

Open your eyes.
Listen.
Listen to the rustling leaves,
the sound of snow falling from the trees,
the gentle whisper of the stream.
The birds that sing their welcome!
That chirp in unifying peace.
Walking,
I hear the crunching of the snow beneath my feet,
among the little sounds that
awake the silence.

And around me,
the beauty of that white cover, so delicate,
so fine.
Though cold, it brings a warmth to the elements that
I can’t define.

So, while you complain about the cold,
the immeasurable horror of the inconvenience that is snow,
I beg you to reconsider with all that you know.
And indulge in this silent, liberating peace.

For in my heart lies the hope that one day,
you will open your eyes.
Awake from your dream.
And find Life
simply by listening to the wind.
 

It rains.
As the clouds cry, 
their tears are peacefully carried away.
To the rivers, to the oceans, to the sea.
Reaching unity, their rightful destiny, of pure and honest acceptance. 

Raindrops of emotion.
Of love, happiness, and nostalgia
Of life at its full. Impossible to ask more.
In them, reflected three of the pillars of nature’s existence,
Sunshine, Fire and Wind.

Three forces that keep me upright
that hold me in place
helping me find who I am
what I am to do
what I am to love.

Sunshine.
She radiates light, warmth and energy.
The energy of life, 
light of wisdom, truth and guidance
Hope 
rainbows of unrelenting positivity.

Fire.
In her flames, she carries not only passion, boldness, and character,
but warmth, and light of sound wisdom and advice.
In which I see inspiring and mesmerising beauty.

Wind.
She moves, touches and inspires. 
Fills you with love, happiness, and meaning.
Knowing exactly how she must blow to keep you upright, 
to hold and support.
Her power transcends limits of human imagination.

In the tears that I cry, 
raindrops of emotion,
I see the reflection of your essence,
three of the forces
that hold me in place
helping me find who I am.

Tears carried away to the oceans, rivers and sea.
Where I feel whole.
Having reached unity, a sense of pure and honest acceptance.

Where I am in peace with myself and the world.
 

Don’t look down
Never give up
Release fear
Learn to let go.

Climbing upwards
I feel the knots disintegrate
those that capture my body and mind into a frantic, convoluted mess of distress, confusion, and overwhelming emotion
loosening the tension of those that bind me to the terrible consequences of a decision I cannot turn back on
but only move on.

Instead I am held by the powerful knot of safety and comfort
a knot that allows me to let go
to lose fear
to move on.

Instead I can climb upwards instead of 
pulling myself down.
There I forget myself and look towards my only goal.

Persistence, perseverance, patience
sometimes means letting go.
Though my violent falls are easily perceived as the fault of
weakness, under-confidence, cowardice
Though the bystander may consider that I have
Given Up.

But when I let go it is not to give up
but to look at the wall from a 
different perspective
take a moment of rest and self-care
So I can learn, improve and try again.

In my peaceful state of unrelenting motivation, concentration, and clarity
I challenge myself to a harder wall.
Slowly, calmly and fearlessly I approach it with gentle movements
despite the strain on my arms and my trembling body.

I do not ignore the pain. I acknowledge it and move forward because
I know my destination.

And yet,
ever so close,
I feel a sharp, burning, searing pain. I know I can still hold on, move on, continue …

I also know that I will break.
Instead I remember to
let go.
And I remind myself that
I will try again.

Don’t push harder, work softly, don’t make the damage worse than what it was.

Where I am injured I support 
though I know I must temporarily avoid my source of pain.
Support gives me an equal if not
more gratifying source of peace.

Then try again, but don’t push too hard. 
Aware of my injury I adapt my strategy
the position of my arms and legs
the difficulty of the walls that I attempt
letting go whenever the strain is too strong.

A judgement that I alone must make,
for the strain is nothing like
the pain of 
a broken
or dislocated
arm.
Nothing like the pain of a
gashing wound.

But I will not let the strain 
become a broken, dislocated arm.

I walk away from the climbing walls and know that I will return again.