Reflections on life

an overturned cup contents carelessly spilled I am reminded of those moments in my life when promises proved empty

words that we speak should remain in silence if they add nothing to our hopes and dreams the quiet is sufficient

our conversation words we throw at each other scoring points as I listen to my heart I hope you listen to yours

speaking senseless words an injured heart speaks rashly I watch the snow fall drifting peacefully downward its gentle silence soothes me

stupidity in the heart of each of us causing ruin angry words and clenched fists directed beyond the clouds

old friends gather to tell old stories each time the story breathes new life I find a new moral to embrace

this community holds strongly entrenched ways today little has changed for 100 yrs men still get drunk and fight

an overturned cup contents carelessly spilled I am  reminded of that moment in my life when promises proved empty

old men sit on benches in the street reminiscing about long hours spent digging in the earth dying for coal

the shouts of drunken youths echo off house walls tired wet colliery village trapped in an endless loop

chanting alone the old monk rings the bell breathing the thin air he meditates on the sound     of the wind taking his last breath

Decembers freezing breath               has frozen you in time                           last summer rose

The hour is late I can hear your fading heartbeat getting weaker slowly your breath moves back and forth whispering my name. Ancient chants can serve no use your gods lacked power to deliver to aid empty vessels you lie abandoned in the dust of death awaiting that final moment when the clock will stop and tribulation will flood over all that you were all that you did the hour is late your breathing now weaker weaker

Tired earth muted hues beneath birds wings your cries go unheeded betrayed by those who rape your land your life blood congealed by  the poisons you are fed your vital force gathers itself a terrestrial revolution seeking vengeance on traiterous stewards A retribution without trial your anger boils over you shake your skin and cities crumble you weep in grief and flood the land your breath shatters mountains rest from anger for shortly peace will return to you A restoration from the spirit that caused your birth at the dawn of time. You will endure a fortress of beauty alive and breathing.

bagpipe music plays, red wine mocks the dreams I have, under this cloud I feel the celtic spirit

outside the hospital patients stand smoking one for a bypass

In the sky         cloud horses gallop                                 racing                                         stallions                                                  on the fields                                                                 below

by the river you stand alone weeping your branches almost touching the water the only willow for miles

if we talk in muted tones perhaps your rejection will not send me reeling if we listen to real words not our own interpetation we may halt the barrage of spite if we feel with our soul we will not be blinded to the truth of love

Jogging home he stops off at McDonalds