Tuesday, September 20, 2016

like driftwood...

And on days such as these
I'd swim out to you if I could /
Feelin' low on high seas,
the bones in my legs like driftwood.

Every rock on this beach has a story to tell,
just like every grain of sand / Tell me, what do I have to do to break this spell
when love doesn't go as planned?
Bless you for giving this blind man back
his eyes / 
And the ocean doesn't roar, my friend:
it sighs!

and if I pick up every shard
of broken paua shell
I find on the beach,
perhaps I can use them all
to piece back together
this shattered heart?

(c) Brent Harpur, 2016.
“Little islands are all large prisons; one cannot look at the sea without wishing for the wings of a swallow.” 
(Richard Francis Burton)
“We are like islands in the sea, separate on the surface but connected in the deep.” 
(William James)

Sunday, March 20, 2016

at the very beginning of time...

I was there,
at the very beginning of time:

When the red earth,
it cracked & chipped;

When the universal curtain

And when the wings
of all the birds
were clipped.

But now,
all I remember:

Is that my worldly possessions
(by sea)
were shipped;

And a day

in May

when your poker-face,
it (finally)...


(c) Brent Harpur, 2016.

“Stop acting so small. You are the universe in ecstatic motion.” (Rumi)