Wednesday, 26 May 2010


Who are you to be small and flickering

Dimly lighting a fearful path

Dreaming through a fog of forgetfulness

Whispering sweet nothings in God’s ear

Be consumed

Lit up


A contagiously

fierce force of nature

Fire dance,

like the red man

Wheel and glide

like an eagle

Hurl yourself into the beat of life

Into the burning passion of Spirit

Wake up

Get up


till you have no feet

Sing till your voice has gone

Paint your life, the colour of rainbow.

Have faith

in change,


embrace complete insecurity,

and let the dance, dance you.

Holy Stones

Gathered for a thousand years

Stones made holy by their wounds

Worn by time,

Penetrated by life

Smoothed by rushing wave

Tossed by timeless tide

Given up to the earth

From the vastness of the sea

Now in the palm of your hand

Waiting for their fate

Asking you to listen

To the secret they came to tell.

Their wounds reflect the wounded

The gouged out parts of our souls

Battered by the tides of life

The small stones message

When kept and contemplated

Is –

All lives are worn and wearied by time

And through that hole comes compassion.

Smoothing of waves, in joy and sorrow

We birth gentleness

Tossed by tides beyond our control

We find the flotsam of forgiveness

Given up to earth and matter

We treasure humanness

Originating in the vastness of ocean

We discover our belonging

Held in the palm of God’s hand.


Float like a feather on the breath of God

Way beyond the fog of fear

Sink into the clarity of love

And settle on eternity’s breeze.

Rest in the wings of the spirit

In the peace beyond understanding

Dance in the song of the Universe

And reel in the laughter of the spheres

Rejoice in this rare gift of life

And know and be known as beloved

See yourself face to face and let go

Into the arms of God

Breath of Life.

Brooding over deep waters,

Breath waits

Breaking the silence with wind beating wings

She watches with piercing gaze

Upon the random identity of fragile shell

Life curling and unfurling in

Sorrowful joy and joyful sorrow,

A world opening and closing.

The promised fruit of primal seed.

A Uni-verse in breath abating labour.

Were She to be seen with half open eye

Her beauty would blind

Her being would blow you away.

But She hovers near enough

To encourage a crack in imagination

Where the echo of eternity is glimpsed.

In time she calls you to freedom

To crack wide open and with a cry

Receive her fully in a freefall rush of breath

And the deafening beating of wings.

Breathe deeply the breath of God

And let the coiled limitation of death

Shatter completely in the mirage of a moment.

Open to the divine kiss of life and be reborn

Breath on breath

One-Song awakened

Saturday, 16 January 2010

Water into Wine


You are the visible manifestation of the invisible…

You are the rarest beings in the universe………

You are the pinnacle of consciousness in created form….

You are spirit breathed..

Yeshua looked around at the people sitting near him. In his mind he addressed each one with these truths but they were deafened by their thoughts, their self-consciousness, their awareness of each other. Comparing, judging, feeling small, feeling large, feeling inadequate, feeling smug, the thoughts of those dressed to their best, for a gathering, a feast, a wedding.

His heart sank. How could he ever convey to them what he knew them really to be. He could see each one, Spirit breathed, wind blown from the stars, deeply connected in a space within, part of a Oneness they had no awareness of.

Words were not going to help. They already had their own words made into meanings neatly boxed in the mouths of priests who divided and multiplied forgiveness and sins. Words that resonated with their perceptions of themselves, as un - holy, separated from Being, in need of saving. A land locked nation living on promises of glory, occupied by a foreign power.

All they wanted was a God given warrior, a King they could give all their responsibility to, who would lead them in victory over their oppressors.

Yeshua took another sip of wine. It tasted like vinegar. It had been a long 3 days of feasting, he was tired and ready to go somewhere quiet. He longed for the hills and their silence, the wheeling of birds and the sound of presence and freedom.

His body ached to go to where the wind blows where it pleases, where you hear its sound but you can’t tell where it comes from or where it is going.

He stood up ready to bid his farewell when his mother caught his sleeve. They have no wine, she said.

He looked at her. ‘That’s not our business, the bridegroom should supply the wine not us.’

He looked again at the oblivious faces of the party. The bride’s new husband was in no fit state to even care. Yeshua wasn’t sure if anyone else would notice if they were given water instead. They accepted so little, like empty clay jars waiting to be filled with anything, fated to accept whatever was poured into them. The cheap wine had increased their forgetfulness. They had forgotten that they were guests of the universe to whom one life had been given, a life they did not comprehend in its true belonging.

His mother’s words reverberated in his head “They have no wine.” and tears filled the corners of his eyes. These beautiful beings were meant to have the fullness of life, deep embodied fullness that expands the vision and cracks open the egg of existence to be born into the deepest of eternal knowings.

He glanced at the clay jars being re-filled and imagined their contents turning from the emptiness of water to the rich red fullness of being. As a tear fell he walked away and the party continued into the night. This was the first of the miracles that no-one would understand.