January One

2 January 2019

But does the sun really have an edge?

Always, always needing to define ourselves.

Always reaching for something to push against,

As a way of staying solid.

A death grip on control.

Never asking what happens

When it is absolutely let go.

Not removed, since our lines

Are only fantasy to begin with.

And we are only just

Learning to get real.


Let’s let the wild horses ride.

Let them gallop where the air freshens.

And rest assured that it will lead

To green pastures and clean waters

So abundant that it never needs dividing

Amongst squabbling siblings.

We are so rich.

Who knew

That there is no such thing as an end,

And the spring comes out of itself.

Every moment is another infinity.


The thing we reach for

Is made of the same stuff as our hands.

Better to just notice

We are already embraced.



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