The rain soon subsides leaving wet plants warmed in the evening sun. All now sparkles with endless possibilities that gleam off crystal covered leaves shimmering and reflecting light like green amplifiers till each plant and flower unfolds into a stage and every thrumming insect works in the spotlight of a decaying evening sun harnessed into brilliance along every emerald traced branch. Night comes slowly and softly as the light dims to grey. The last birdsong decays as feathered bodies fluff and relax into the torpor darkness brings. Our footsteps tread over the shadowy paths that wind toward home. For silence rides in on the back of darkness to lull all to dreams of a bright day welcoming them into dawn.

Summer wanes and was for us (no matter how long it seemed (‘twas but a fleeting beat on the wings of time’s wider dream. A cool breeze and the invitation from the owls floating calls shall draw me out to look upward into the heart of the night. For the sky holds safe our thoughts and dreams and though they may darken or expand in the cool night still they linger deliciously on the unconscious attempts to find peace that take over as we gaze upward toward the immeasurable pinpricks of light. Myriad points of reference that perhaps hold unknown alien contemporaries also striving toward some sense and understanding of their wider world. Yet for now the larger questions shall subside into the dusky ambience and I shall think of just my little consciousness occupying this point in time. I shall simply sit on the cool grass and gaze upward and as the expanse above me unfolds for millions of miles into the void. For if I can see just a little glimpse of heaven I shall have grown. Though there is no light I shall enjoy all the other senses of touch, smell, sound and taste. From the mist as it lazily wreathes a ghostly shadow across my feet. Or the touch of the wet grass as it dampens clothes and the sound of nights creatures from the smallest insect that thrums around me in the dark to the decaying distant call from a large tawny owl heightening my sense of completeness among the mortal waking dream termed life.I let myself go and in the dark I can see everything in this thought world and it is made whole by my touch. It is a perfect, healthy world filled to the brim with joy and so perfect in its application. It is of course an illusion but for the moment it seems to good to let go and it washes over me. For who shall deny the optimism of a perfect world where there is no pain and we all belong and understand one another without guilt, fear or prejudice. It is a common world created in the subconscious because the real world is at times beyond our comprehension. Truly though I say all this, the scariest times are when we understand it.

When a sunset burns the sky in the warmest orange, why does the dawn seem further away than ever? Oh that the night may traverse across my dreams swiftly. Borne to dawn fast upon the celestial wings of a moon ready to fall, silvered with myriad shooting stars across our loving thoughts. Thoughts that rise and fall in unison with the heartbeat of the universe, till there is no more time to dream and the dawn is reborn and we awake holding the other in loving arms that are stronger than the ties that hold the thews of this perfect world. For your perfect and strong arms are my heaven tonight and always

I am a child of England, of wood and hill and greensward. Of rain and winter and far-flung heritages condensed to make this quiet living man. I would always wish to be in a changing temperate environment of open green meadows that roll way dreams and are dotted with Friesians and buttercups. I would take the odd week’s sun but I should miss an evening dappled in sunlight, or a dewy morning alive with birdsong.

Where shall I wander tonight as the last rays of the sun sink behind the rolling distant hills. I feel like the night wraps around me and draws my soul out into a world limited only by the depth of imagination. It’s been a warm and pleasant day full of physicality that confirms mortality. That all the pleasure we feel in day to day cycles cannot last without end. Only at night gazing upward at a starry sky do we grasp a small part of how great we can become once free of our earthly duty.

If a light could be cast across my path into the night then none should enchant more than the moon’s radiance tonight. The silvered twilight enwraps in the intensity of lighting bolts that have when arcing to earth become filtered by feathered clouds riding on clear, cool air. The clouds thicken and light fades as I take a long look through tall stone pillars framing a long gravel driveway. It fades into the distance lined with tall trees. Their arching branches tracing moonlight, rising like obsidian coral swaying in the current toward the violet-black ocean surface. The whisper of the wind takes a seed of thought in my mind that darkness need not be a time to be indoors and my shadow lengthened even beyond its height in an autumn sun, reaches into this celestial world that now bridges day and night and finds peace. For your friendship has and shall be the light that will guide my way when the world is darkest.
Look to the sky and see the princess ride over darkness
Light shining through clouds that wraps her like finest silk
Tonight no cover may stifle her walk through the heavens
For she is full, wanton and seeks out those far below her
Who would make a wish and in joy shall she grant it thus
For hearts should hope and these she would try to save?
So I have wished and she threads the needle once again
To darn my heart mending hurts in the years forgotten joys
So that our fears and dreams collide and we know peace
A second lived within a lifetime seems all that has passed

I was at looking out of the window last night as the day faded. I never tire of the feeling of calm when listening to a good piece of music and watching the sky dim and darken into night. Blues through orange to copper to at last a deepening violet that holds the silhouette of a monkey-puzzle tree with such a sharp angular clarity not seen in daylight. Too soon the last vestiges of birdsong fade and all is laid bare to the wanderings of the soul through the solitude of silence. To know we cannot endure amongst such loveliness and must leave sooner or later eats at the soul like a curse. For I have you in my life and I would wish to stay till your soul is content and your sense enriched by all that I can give.
Out walking in the veil of night I see a footprint in the moist earth and I place my foot to the indent in the soft brown earth. It will not fit for my foot is too large. Yet I caress the shape beneath with softness driven by memory of long ago when two people walked along the shore and their passage through time marked as indents on golden sand. For you were here and my soul wishes you were here now. For often it seems that living keeps us apart when we should be together. Weights and joys of our past bred responsibilities to others and they lead us on roads we do not wish to travel. Age creeps into our lives and makes us less that we were physically and yet the heart still burns and I miss you even when I can’t be with you. You are the candle under my flame and without you I would gutter and dim to nothing. I miss you and then I see the blackest sky hung with stars and framed through the branches that hang low on the hilltop is you. My heart loves you and shall always love you forever.
Where shall we go tonight? Shall we visit the earth before we were here and stand on the crest of a hill to watch dinosaurs. Or travel far into the future when we shall at last have learnt that the creator(s) was / were flawed and were without the greatest by-product of their new assembled universe. This was the accidental creation of our, (not their) collective humanity. For they could not have been planned that way at the outset. Perhaps it comes too late, but it comes and slowly we will overtake that which brought us to here.
I often wonder how it comes to be that the world could be created in such savagery. Man will subjugate and kill, (if he can,) all other men that move within his jurisdiction. All that walks on the Earth consumes a part of it and like some huge and terrible pyramid of butchery the world feasts upon its inhabitants. I think some term it dispassionately the food chain. How could a world that turns and rejoices in its bloodlust move forward? How could a world on such a barbaric scale be created? I find it hard to believe that a beneficent power would consciously do it knowing the suffering that it would bring for aeons. So we are left with three conclusions.
The world is a random collection of elements that sprang into life from a chaotic chance.
A divine being created the world.
The world was seeded by other beings for other purposes not known to us yet.
For we are a small world full of people locked inside a limitless universe that we cannot grasp the size or consequence of. We are at last moving beyond the limits superstition set ourselves into sciences that enable the disassembling of the keys of life and yet we are still within as savage as the Neanderthal we sprang from. Time has not tempered our innate capacity to hate and to destroy on a massive scale and as our numbers rise our individual self-importance grows less. It is as though we are programmed not to care for others outside (and sometimes within) our small social groups.
All our lives we all wrangle with choices that hover between selfish acts and naked greed. How often have we gone for the choice that harms others? Winners and losers and how a whole ethic of avarice and covetous behaviour is flimsily covered with a feeling of superiority. How brave are those that stand and be counted and will not submit. So often blinded and wrong in their choices and yet absolute in the cause within their heart.
It is going to be a nice day. I can’t see out the window but I can see the sunshine reflected in the yellow walls of the room. I switched rooms last year and I miss the view out of the window on to the trees. I am sure it inspired me much more than I care to realise. Inspiration to write is a fragile thing. Generally it occurs at the most inconvenient time. Such as a works meeting when I want to stop the work and let the words flow. Or in my head among the thoughts and idle dreams grows an epic of biblical proportions that needs to be transmuted into readable verse. For now time quickens and creative pulses slow among me and my contemporaries and I realise at last that my lives easy summer living grows rapidly toward a cooler autumn. For the though takes shape that this is all there is and I would wish for more. It is hard to comprehend we shall not endure. Hard to think I may never see you again. Yet we are equal for I think this is just as hard for you. It is difficult to see an end when we also feel a call.
There is breath from across all the ages singing to us still. Its harmony set to the beat of shooting stars flying sparsely through obsidian heavens. I cannot hear the words but the melody touches my soul rendering it immortal. For within us on the very border of consciousness must lie the sum of all that has gone before. We are the repositories of time itself. Stardust woven into life with all the memories of the universe. Close your eyes and see that which crawled from vapid seas to splutter and live upon the lands. That surely killed to survive and yet still loved. Slowly over the millennia it grew into that which resides in you, (and me.) Long gone are the ones who brought us here but within us lies their whispers spoken ever softer as the generations pass. Perhaps one day all will still and we shall evolve to a greater plane. But for now the whispers hold sway and we can only dream. Tonight I shall dream of you and only you. For love defines itself as memories and dreams made alive in each other’s arms. You are here and I reach out to touch you and I realise that throughout the rest of my life your soul shall be always at my side. I love you.

Thurday 18th May 2006

Lots of fast and furious Spring rain tempered with sunshine across the whole of the day. Still so atmospheric and vibrant with new leaves slowly unfurling to create verdant bunting stretched betwen long brown arcing branches and waving on the sout-west wind. I might wave back if everyone didn't look so glum. Ah to be in England in the Summer again. I love it so! Go look at bluebells at dusk and tell me that's not atmospheric...Green grass on a rolling valley slope with a meandering river swollen by rain, bluebells in vivid mettalic blue and humming insects with the whole view swathed in dappled sunshine. If you ever wonder what it's really all about then walk through nature at the days beginning or ending and wonder no more. Or listen to Sara Brightman, Oleta Adams, or a great classical score for that has the same effect.
Near the end of a working week and I am looking forward to the weekend. Bargain hunts for vinyl records and any equipment used to play them, walks with dog and some gardening. If you haven't done so...listen to some records on a decent hi-fi and prepare to be amazed. Have a great weekend and if you haven't seen Crash yet....where you been? Same place as me as i only watched it last nght. I am only around 12 months behind all this stuff. But..probably a good place to be I feel.

Tip for the weekend...Dont live a life vicariously through others do it through yourself.

Sunday 14th May 2006

It’s such a beautiful and perfect evening tonight. Rain swept across the hills this afternoon but now sunshine abounds and all the dismal nooks and crannies are once again full of sparkling water drops that have beentouched by the light and warmth of the sun. I am listening to theinspirational Gladiator soundtrack and as the ethereal voice of Lisa Gerard and the stirring music reverberates across the room it is hard to believe that the world for others is not always so tranquil and warm and above all else safe from harm! We would rather not think that in a thousand places across the world people are desperately seeking a way into the world we inhabit. It is not in question that everyone should be able to have all that we take so readily as our right. Yet it is not so and my perfect evening is tinged with guilt for all those who stand outside the gates and peer through. For truly their worlds are more bountiful and warm than mine and my simple heart does not understand why it is so! At times the injustice and hurts suffered by others seem almost biblical and yet I wonder if really that is not the root of all the suffering. It is hard to work out whom or what is the culprit for the glut of madness and inhumane behaviours that rock the world.So forgive me if tonight I shall not try and instead focus on the world outside my window. This emerging leaves streaming from brown branches likes mall globules of palest emerald, that begin to glisten and expand into spring with a mission of growth. I too feel growth like the spring and a burning rush to summer gathers pace in a tumultuous outpouring of emotion and hope. For hope is eternal and clings within me like the startling leaves upon all the trees. So easily we could be shrugged aside from a care of the world like chaff on an autumn breeze and yet we resolutely ride all the storms, clinging resolutely to the beliefs that gave us life’s foundations. For life is all we have and though all these sensations and hopes shall come to naught on this earthly plane so we understand that there is so much more that is deeply invisible to us. It awaits all that have a glad heart and the wisdom to see beyond the earthly boundaries set by the universe. Always remember that the friends and loves we make in life shall never be sundered.

There is breath from across all the ages singing to us still. Its harmony set to the beat of shooting stars flying sparsely through obsidian heavens. I cannot hear the words but the melody touches my soul rendering it immortal. For within us on the very border of consciousness must lie the sum of all that has gone before. We are the repositories of time itself. Stardust woven into life with all the memories of the universe. Close your eyes and see that which crawled from vapid seas to splutter and live upon the lands. That surely killed to survive and yet still loved. Slowly over the millennia it grew into that which resides in you, (and me.) Long gone are the ones who brought us here but within us lies their whispers spoken ever softer as the generations pass. Perhaps one day all will still and we shall evolve to a greater plane. But for now the whispers hold sway and we can only dream.

For the whispers speak of darker times when man shared the earth with creatures not of this world which came here battling each other in alliances of splendour. We have no name for these races only that cruelty was matched by honour and that mankind has reaped their bittersweet heritage. For magic entered the world with them and like the whispers in our minds, it exists still. Though through time it decays in its potency. For me the quest of my life is to discover if the seeds sowed by these strangers can grow and produce a magical fruit. If there is an intangible power within us, it manifests as wisdom, grace and honour in one’s such as we. But that is cause for fear. For these qualities abounding in us says there are others that harbour darker shades and their blackened hearts breed discontent, envy and cruelty. We shall seem the dappled glades that harbour soft, cool breezes winding amongst fresh green leaves whilst they hold a fetid sway within deep woods where no air or light penetrates. There seems no dispute that we are a world of only two possibilities intermingled in chaotic colonies. There are no other true races within the boundaries of the world only individuals. Yet how has this come to be? Here is my story written deep within memories sung across the aeons….

Goodness and humility is the engine that drives the world. The great things done move the world but its vital fuel is the sum of all the invisible actions we take every day.

Summer wanes and was for us (no matter how long it seemed (‘twas but a fleeting beat on the wings of time’s wider dream. A cool breeze and the invitation from the owls floating calls shall draw me out to look upward into the heart of the night. For the sky holds safe our thoughts and dreams and though they may darken or expand in the cool night still they linger deliciously on the unconscious attempts to find peace that take over as we gaze upward toward the immeasurable pinpricks of light. Myriad points of reference that perhaps hold unknown alien contemporaries also striving toward some sense and understanding of their wider world. Yet for now the larger questions shall subside into the dusky ambience and I shall think of just my little consciousness occupying this point in time. I shall simply sit on the cool grass and gaze upward and as the expanse above me unfolds for millions of miles into the void. For if I can see just a little glimpse of heaven I shall have grown. Though there is no light I shall enjoy all the other senses of touch, smell, sound and taste. From the mist as it lazily wreathes a ghostly shadow across my feet. Or the touch of the wet grass as it dampens clothes and the sound of nights creatures from the smallest insect that thrums around me in the dark to the decaying distant call from a large tawny owl heightening my sense of completeness among the mortal waking dream termed life.
I let myself go and in the dark I can see everything in this thought world and it is made whole by my touch. It is a perfect, healthy world filled to the brim with joy and so perfect in its application. It is of course an illusion but for the moment it seems to good to let go and it washes over me. For who shall deny the optimism of a perfect world where there is no pain and we all belong and understand one another without guilt, fear or prejudice. It is a common world created in the subconscious because the real world is at times beyond our comprehension. Truly though I say all this, the scariest times are when we understand it.

Come unto me night and let the stardust of aeons wash my dark dreams in their wake
Cleanse and make me whole so that I may survive to witness a little more mortal eternity.
For my dreams are dark of late and the world weighs heavy on the souls of us …its children
For given the eyes to see, then why do we choose to close them so often to all the injustice?
That wreathes the world in a band of chaotic greed and stays the hand from actions that stand out.

Come unto me night and let the stardust of aeons wash my heart to ease with loving thoughts
For I have a need of such joy that surpasses all else. To laugh like there is only hope left and…
Sleep in a flower filled meadow amongst the sunshine while the world revolves to night
To wake under a crescent moon and see the myriad stars twinkling hope in a scattering canopy.
Myriad points of reference that perhaps hold unknown alien contemporaries also striving

Come unto me night to find a road to a distant place that is sending a clarion call through the heavens
Yet for now the these larger questions subside into the dusky ambience and as all stills I shall think
Of just my little primate consciousness occupying this point in time sat on the cool grass in a vast universe
Gaze upward with me as the unlimited expanse above unfolds for billions of miles into the void.
For if I can see just a little glimpse of heaven I shall have grown and know

Come unto me night for the stardust has come finally home to weave a sentient being into existence
Yet the atoms of eternity cry within me for this is not how they wished to march through their infinity
Adrift in a world where the price of pain and suffering is so easily bought and to always bear a witness
That nothing can ever change for the universe has created a flaw to ensure that man can never ascend
Into the bright light of enduring creation…for this and only this I breathe hope that justice prevails.

Yet life is ever a paradox and what grows stronger through adversity weakens new associations and makes it hard for us and also for others to grow as close as they (and perhaps us,) would wish. Yet in the end a compromise is reached. And yes, if I weigh everything up in the scales of time all I have done or seen or felt may come to naught still there is always the moment and while we endure it is all we have. The future shall attend to itself but the moment… that is ours entirely to enjoy. I remember all the good things and all the good people and I realise I have let a lot of them down. I cannot change that, but I can try to make amends. For we are on the same path and the journey is all the more joyous being able to share some footsteps with you. You took the time to walk with me through the years and I shall now accompany you whenever I can.