Strong

Down with wayward weeds – we say thank you

And move away from you

And search for a thousand suns in a thousand souls around us.

Like water to twigs, the tides of life will carry us

From the dock where we were stuck

Oh, what it feels to be free!

– See how water flows through and in between

Like wind to the plover, we must let the light lift us

From sands of stinging tears;

Like an oak to a tired soldier, we will rest in the roots 

And draw comfort in pain

Where the bullet struck once –

And struck once again

The truth is 

Our lives, however they seem from the outside

Are peppered with small sufferings – 

Sprinkled with maroon and green 

And amber moons

Here to teach, colour and beseech us with stains of lessons learnt: 

To act more kindly

Anger more slowly

And speak honestly. Always.

It is these moons – 

Of green, and amber, and maroon

That show us to forgive courageously

Not just others, but also ourselves. 

To accept what is and let 

hurt, 

|   |

loss 

|   |

and 

|   |

heartbreak 

Leave marks like rungs of a ladder...

... and keep us ascending.

So, 

Once-stained soul be sure

That though you are small

You are the twigs of Noah

And the foundations of an ark

Now look! 

 As with maroon 

And green 

and amber moons 

Rises another you – 

The same but somehow different:

A little kinder now.

Gentler now.

A little more resilient now.

Full of joy now.

Roaring now – risen where you belong

You are here now.

You are here:

Strong

Sister, Sea

My sister has many moods, in unknown hues she accounts for all - and for no-one at once. 

Oh sea, look at you striding in torrents with your talon-like waves today. Falcon-talons, curling at the edges to grip what lies just an inch away; and still an inch apart 

Tumbling storms heave in your heavy lungs. What do you witness in this breath? Are you breathing, or fuming my sister? Are you angry at the world perhaps? I hear they used to call you a turquoise blanket; that must have been when you were calm. I hear the sailors sang to you? Do you care for their lost bodies and their sunken ships? Do you hold their melodies in your arms?

I saw you once sea; in the quiet of the still night. You were only whispering then. And the moon was dancing on your soft, cushioned tops. You didn’t see me at first. But when you did you didn’t stop. And I cried watching the ways and the whispers between her, between you, between me. It was she; who moved and pulled you – she, the silent moon, with her almost-nothing beams. 

Untameable sister, you account for no-one and everyone. And yet you waltz with her. Two sisters baring secrets in that knowing way. And my own untamed tear, which was made of some salty, wild you - also glistened on my cheek – dancing quietly with the moon. 

Sister, sea. 

Read this at my funeral

Please, when I die,

Do not make a sad death notice

One that says,

“I was sorry to hear”

Or explains the tragedy that is not at all a tragedy.

Not from my perspective. 

When I die, let it be said that I transformed

From the density of my human form

To the silk feather that passes you in the hands of the wind

And the dandelion seed that follows 

As a reminder of new life. 

Let it be said that I go gently now

With the butterflies, whose wings are inexplicably delicate 

And the dolphins, who play in the fullness of joy 

When I die

Remember my old words as they were to you

But please, hear my voice in its new form, too–

in the hushed whispers of the blue gums

And the creaking of the willow.

Listen to my song in the waves

Cracking and ebbing with the foam…

Rumbling with the thunder.

I was not much of a singer before

But now, as you sit in front of the choir,

Hear my messages in their chorus

And feel my loveWhich is always in your heart. 

When I die, please do not miss me in my old

But seek me in my new

And when you look,

Find me waiting for you