Golden Threads

There is nothing new

For all things are old

Ultimately all

Will turn to gold

For the dust that falls

Down from open skies

All is revealed

As immortal lies

But what of this gold?

What does it consist?

Only ever

Ethereal mist

But with its weave

And distinctive weft

It is best

Forever left

Lest it unravel

Before our eyes

All that remains

Are eternal skies

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disturbing your sleep

this night, morning comes early

for you little moth

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tumbling all streams fall

from the mountain only I

choose to climb again

Fault-Finding

sitting silently

upon these  rocks

above the cold

of a quarried box

across the angled

faces steep

watching shadows

slowly creep

and the darkened smile

of a fracture cracked

all through this hill

but here – where hacked

it is exposed

to the wild winds

at this look-out –

but look within

it runs and runs

all along these views

the length of the hill

and for more – continues

so look into

the mountain’s rent

below the manes of pines

by the cold winds bent

for the very heart

of the world is dark

but listen – above

sings the bright skylark

and blue harebells

so very sweet

lie here scattered

all around my feet

nodding with

the summer breeze

for ill winds blown out

now all is at ease

until mid-day

will the shadows shrink

then they’ll grow cold and long

with the black of ink

but until then

under all weathers

I’ll just sit here – in purple

among the heather.

The Morning Stock-Take

the dawn that rises

turquoise blue

above the cold

clear moorland dew

above the valley

mists blush rose

and the early sun

low in the sky glows

on ambered rocks

just sitting here

watching the valley

so slowly clear

petals of rose mist

slowly unfurling

evaporate as

slowly curling

they twist into

the vast blue yonder

while I sit just here

and silently ponder

just sitting here

taking stock

just sitting here

on this cold rock

Solitude

In the eternity of meditation

Recognise

The fleetingness of moment

In the stillness

Find vanity

In the emptiness

Find joyous mind-song

In the lasting peace

Identify noise

None but the falling water –

Do-gen’s image

Carried away

Breaks on the precipice

Cascades

Into ten thousand mirrors

Each a rainbow

Reflecting on the world

Solitude amongst mountains