Life in the lowlands

As you walk through life in the lowlands
It is always high under the sun and shores
Are never far away.


Somewhere safe

The sky seems so close
As though the stars are burning
Aquamarine and copper,
Painting a land of light
Against the indigo earthbound
Winter Night.
Perhaps mapping
The way to somewhere

Sleepless blue nights

These sleepless blue nights,
When dawn is kept at arm’s length,
And melancholy winds tickle my skin
With the warm breath of eternity.
I wake up dressed in sheets of snow,
As though an angel had left behind
A scattering of feathers,
Covering me in its innocence.


The sun is pouring like rain

The winter clouds are hovering
Above the blue sea.
The sun is pouring like rain,
Skipping in silver Wellingtons
On thinly iced surface.
And seabirds open
their black and white wings
To let drops of white gold
Plate their feathers.


Quiet Shimmer

I can still see it, like sea foam
Or snow adrift on iced over lakes.
Like words hanging from trees
Heavy with their winter whipped load.
Like days and days of quiet shimmer
When the moon falls upon earth,
Sharp and steady, like the dip
Of a bird’s tail,
Leaving an ephemeral time stamp
Like the shadow of a robin in a white field.
But that is how it is with angels,
It is always that which we cannot trace
That we remember the longest.


I still see you

I still see you
In the ripples of Silver
In the shallows.
Like tips of wings
Carving into
The mirrored
Winter sky,
In the pale dawn.


Evening Sun

The evening sun
Scatters its army of angels
Across the sky,
They reach out towards us
As thought Eternity,
with all its bewinged glory,
Is admiring the terrestrial evanescence
Of death.