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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.
 

River rushing through creek.
Water, rocks, trees,
assuming shape, knowing surroundings
invariably, flowing through law
law flowing through it
Knowledge contained in its essence

Not conscious
but the end-point is clear, intrinsic to its existence,
the embodiment of natural law.

How some assume to be the river!
With absolute certainty they insist to
know the world.

Water, rocks, trees
the creek shapes us, knows us,
but we do not know the creek. 

And yet
somehow we may take any shape
more like an uncontrollable fire
holding the freedom of
choice.

Not knowing what is ahead
nor understanding the reality we have
changed. Yet having to
think, decide and
live.

To choose our own way
to make our own creek.

Though overwhelmed by the thought of the
consequences
I embrace the thought and
go to sleep.

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