December 2016

from an interlude
ending spring
in morning mist
the wordless
new day . . .
again fingertipping
the void
lips synch
to days adazzle
in tongue
earth to earth
the wonder of now
on its own
all things considered
night's stellar insouciance
brings me down to earth
lost to light
my solitude awash
with the sea
eye to eye
the bottom line
still there
out of the depths
the sound of swords beaten
and war no more
it is seen –
the shape of the cloud
when it was
my creek reflection
clear the headstone –
in time this breath also
summer clouds
the gannet's dive
a life without language
before it's done
what's left of me . . .
a half moon haunting clouds
took my breath away
moonlit sea
bound to me in this ditch
of ownership
receding tide . . .
my negative capability
left high and dry
after rain too
the sea has no colour
of its own
up, down
a leaf adrift
and not
ceaseless stars . . .
no end in sight
for the pathos 
midnight hunt . . .
every pulse pledged
to the prey
with the moon
Kapiti out to sea
nothing else
grave silence –
a distant fantail
barely heard
night falls on 
                  night falling on 
            a dark sea
with age
the deepening pallor
of the moon
my eyes upon the light
an oak concealed
breath stop
between life
and death
still life . . .
all my colours
from dusk
dead silence . . .
an ancestral wisdom 
in so few words
still us –
sounds aflutter
enter the light
awake again . . .
has dawn recreated
the am I was?
who am I?
a waft of waves
stills my breath

am I to be the words no more

open hand . . .
her call curls out from
the unheard
advent silence
speaking our language
my heartbeat
on mesolithic time
once more
heaven-sent . . .
vernix enfolds the word
whispered in doubt
midsummer night
the moon hangs about
like a suicide
oh the joy
dust from the big bang
in my lungs too
here we drown 
with our words
silent night –
a divine sadness
to be borne 
see these wounds –
God's creating word
in the flesh
in the gap
between breath and touch
all is hush
daughter buffalo
I too would die
to words
deep-down dark
the burden of self
yet to die
moon-lashed sea
no more what it seems
in stillness
a child washes away
from her death
word made flesh
the birth of silence
echoes still
no more mind
just the ebb and flow
of a sea