Dance of the Iris
Sight, muted, eclipsed by
A collapse of everything
Into a pulse

Blue to blue
And back
Dilating ever so
A dance of the Iris

And breath in time
With a metronome
         That knows no place
                 Nor time

Us, lying in between
The lines of a stave
As instruments, porous to a music
That pervades and embraces
Us back to life.

Eyes like Honey
Molten amber, rich of earth and moon
Unhurried in their unfolding
Stretching, unrolling
With a honey sweet slowness
Of space, captivated between breaths
Where time rests, suspended
And the polished lake of quiet beauty
Remains not as a mirror, but becomes
With us too, the door

Our dream of Heaven
Just slightly displaced
      Is this make belief
 As more than a once upon a time

   For floating in the sunset
Where we are all water and light
Is the window to the world and beyond

This inscape, where together we sew the stars
Like the most beautiful words of Love
Into the night sky
And the darling buds of May
Into our dream of Heaven.

The beauty of Love
Ahh finally we meet, and lost I am again
No voice, no thought, by Love’s sword all slain
And what is left? Nothing of me, just a simple falling
Into itself, myself, a boundless pool, made only of Love’s own calling

And what worth now carried by years of thought, feeling and deed?
An eternity better than gold, if in the Honour of Love and Love’s need,
Where gold too unable to resist the warmth of dear Love’s hold,
Melts and melds and merges, into vanishing rivers of fool’s gold,

Undressed by Love to pure naked quanta of light, just dancers in some ballet,
And then undressed again to that beyond any lens’ might see, a play on a play on a play…
Where the ‘what is’ collapses too into the unseen, words too rigid to explain
And where even this observer is swallowed into that indescribable beauty of Love that must, and does always remain.