The Winter chills the morning
Fat-bellied clouds, dark with mood
On streams carried from the sea
Threaten with a low rumble
As a hungry, impatient storm
Expands with heavy fury
And unexpectedly, before unleashing
Parts in different directions
As if bickering friends
Agreeing to Disagree.
This Forgotten Place
Where lost and restless souls
come to paint themselves
Ochre, the red centre
and dance under a silent star
Sun Worship
Draws out the poison
We, the parchment
Elemental
Reuse, rebuild – and wait
Until air thick, pregnant
a scent on the wind
the rain is coming –
Pours like holy water
Over sin
The earth’s skin
We re-hydrate
Fill out our limbs
and soak the brain
Water becomes
Uncounted, without passing
The change.