A friend sent me this poem when my gran died a few years ago. (Summerland is the pagan equivalent of Heaven.) It’s so beautiful I wanted to share it.
With his thick black hair falling o’er his neck, gleaming blue-black, like jays in the sun, He cleaned out the spurs on his best riding boots; spat and polished the barrel of his… Continue reading
Here, Emily Dickinson perfectly captures what it is to be trapped inside the screaming vortex one’s own depression. In the dark chamber of our mind, at once desolate yet teeming with ghouls, all… Continue reading
In celebration of Burns Night!
Dawn breaks, bringing forth the light of all beings. Blinking in the first rays of the sun, crouching, bouncing A restless seduction, The sprinter’s nose traces the horizon, a primal lens As eternal,… Continue reading
I remember this one from my childhood!
I don’t know what this poem is called or who it’s by (not us, sadly!); it was found by a friend of ours. Be most grateful if anyone can help.