If I throw out these words, will you arrange them?

If I scour these flakes off my thoughts, will you x-ray them?

Am I lazy, or just tired? So tired

I want this pain psychosomaticly fired. You’re fired. 

It’s time to find

the coloured pencils again,

and I want those ones

with the erasers on the end.

Is that a thing?

It should be. 


But maybe, instead,

a soft, downy bed,

and catholicons that rhyme,

making perfect the climb

out from cellular breaths,

releasing those deaths

that long to be free.


(Good night ❤)





you pulled away

the footsteps coiling around my neck.

a gentleness bled

into prints excoriated


the first rains crawling

along droughted river beds

shoe shaped cracks that choke


my heart swept up

into Your dark embrace

the Darkness beyond human myopia


seen only through the lens

of tears given Divine

You reached through dimensions

of suffering, the kind


that decodes DNA

and breathes, reanimates


Eye to eye

Heart to heart

humility scorned

now plays the part…




Photo credit: my husband

Christian, Poetry

you pulled away

General bewilderment, Poetry

the uncoiling…

that disturbs


the confusing

of resiling


those playful mobiles

above my head’s


of thought.

how adorable.

(Or, something profane. I forget which.)


their petrifying –

the timbres compound,


original intent,

no harm

was ever meant,

but you know I have to duck

circumstance demands I pluck

the searing missiles

from my psyche.





the healing power of music


I have been trying to catch up on some reading and came across a blog post by Raili Tanska at soul gifts.  It’s an absolutely fascinating read about Ancient Music.

I have been going to alternative health practitioners for years, and am a fan of colour and music therapy, well, all therapies, quite frankly, based on the fact that everything has its own frequency. I find it fascinating, being a practising Christian, that the story of creation emphasises sound as the means by which God created. And now in our times of electromagnetic pollution and overload, how powerful these therapies can be.

Last year when I visited my naturopath, he played some music based on the musical principles explained in this article. The person who produced the music had come to the conclusion in his research that the Biblical story of young David, playing music for King Saul to relieve his suffering when tormented by an evil spirit, was most likely based on this as well. Regardless of what you believe, I think it is very interesting the wisdom and learning that has been lost over the centuries. (I even read something years ago that the ancient Egyptians practised the art of levitation using sound waves. Wish it would improve my memory. I have no idea now where I read that.)

Continue reading

Christian, Poetry

She climbed for the view…

Old photos 1273.jpg

over all of the pieces

missing in action


but so far from field

she was too high to collect

any meaningful


semblance of early

configurations of their



She had to go down

and follow the river bed,

to lie underneath,


to wait in the depths.

Heart broken by the sight and



by the breath of One

already there, bleeding out

poem’s syllables.





the journey doesn’t end here…

But she really did love those tiles.

They were hand made

and placed with loving

carelessness, in haste.


She picked them for practicality

for their water proof qualities

she thought,

(not thinking about salt water, of course),

and their quirkiness,

something different for everyone.


He helped her peel them off,

“it’s time for a renovation”, he said.

And they exchanged those looks.

The knowing one she thought she always had

he now wore.


Because really, he knew this was no renovation.

It was simply an unveiling.

(‘Cursum Perficio’ was engraved on tiles in the entrance to Marilyn Monroe’s last home. It wasn’t actually in mind when I started writing this, it came afterwards, hence the title…)

song meaning





“They I said it wouldn’t happen again,

this flooding”

a sight not to be seen for another __ years.

“My ears filling with expert voices

trapping the scurrying feelings

insecting in the inescaping

infecting the elucidating”

nourishing the swell

between us –

your eyes telling me

under the indiscriminate trees.

Which are as beautiful within the flood as without.

smiling in the sudden illumination…


come sit with me dear friend

Christian, Poetry

nepenthe of nepenthes

Compelled to her feet
He reminded her of the Garden.
It kept her walking…

Breathed to her healing
the Leaves’ Scent from the Garden.
She exhaled

to Light
piercing through dimensions
outlining her shape

the distant memory of tears
welling up
and spilling
on the River drenched Fruit.

She was flying …


 Gen 2:7-9
Ezekiel 47:12
Psalm 34:18
Luke 10:33-35
John 19:34
Rev 22:1,2
Isaiah 40:31

Photo credit: Chase Miller