wild flesh

A frozen spring falls like liquid glass filtering sun for me from the remote fountain. It couldn’t clear the rusty ice and so i draw it back into my water’s.

There is hardship In my voice. The quiet thunder. Falling with rain every night. Just like I do. A spectrum of emotions in a single moment.

And it was good to feel. In the booming waters where light fades into life. It’s primal. Old, like the composition of my body. It needs water, salt and earth.

My flesh connects to all life. They share my same texture and feeling. The same instructions and a sole spirit. 

The wind blows through my grass-like-hair, with a feather-like pressure. Lungs fuel in and out of my blood vessels. The infinite hidden ribbons. The tips of my fingers blossom, the strings in my heart fix roots, into black soil.

The great tide. The unstoppable force moves aside for I am a leaf in the tree of creation. 

Fear is turned to awe for timbre dragons ripple the webs, holding us still in our stars.

Fleshy decadence is cast aside. The wilderness inside beckons. And i travel it’s barren landscape looking for oblivion.

Mustard Seed

My soul is a strong tree. With roots deep in Christ. The strongest of winds may sway me but i will never fall by the grace of God. The joy of Christ is in my heart. It is eternal and rushes through my being.

My feelings are my own. They are tamed like wild dogs turned domestic. Like storms in the sea turned calm.

I cannot control my life but i can control myself. Who i am and what i do. How i perceive things and the strength i have in difficult times.

I know my path. The calling I feel to heal peoples souls and minds. To recover them from uncharted depths. To carry them to green pastures.

And I carry my whole body to your water. Where my life is made whole and allowed to grow. My soul romances with the spirit to make me one with you.


Tears run down my cheeks. As i make a choice that will let healing take place. I didn’t think i was strong enough but courage you showed. There are many things i don’t understand. I pray to God who will lead me to my destination. I am but a leaf in the lake of creation. And this spirit will let me rectify my weakness.



The word means more than I can express with my voice. It is an elliptical love. What elders call children. What God calls all people. An island growing inside me.

People that see nameless beauty use it to classify the unclassifiable. In my heart of hearts I can honestly say that I am open to love. That my world has become sonu. That in my struggle with faith over the past month I have understood that God is my soul. And that I am Gods Sonu child. That we are in a colliding relationship that merges as my life proceeds.

‘I’m not ready’ I cry watching myself torn apart but God is making me whole. God is making me ready for love. Ready to be able to act how I feel and ready to form close bonds. Ready for the cold and unloving world. All I can do is let go and love the people I see and try bring out the love buried deep below.

I’m not ready but those called to love never are. Nobody really ever is. It’s not a rational part of the mind. And we try to use our heads saying it’s not going to make a difference- its too hard.

Our hearts know the truth. Even if we don’t dare admit it to ourselves. It’s is us who make this cold hard earth Sonu.


Thursday, 12, January. 2017

Sometimes my smile is as little weaker, but still present. Not because I am happy or contented but because I want to be. I want to be so desperately different and the same as everyone else. I envy and yet belittle those around me. But that’s changing now.

When I hurt I shut it all of it away, deep down. That is the price of empathy, the numb of closure, the drone of a rough soul wore down by the sea; constantly charging and forced into abrasion. But that’s changing now.

When people use to hurt me. I would love a little less. When they would say or do thing’s that deliberately or un• made me feel lesser. Unloved. Outside or distant I would loosen myself from them. I would make myself far from their hurt to me. But that’s changing now…

Love is eternal as is pain. I can choose the person to hurt with my words and carelessness, we hurt each other and expect to loose love. We expect to have it barrier us but is doesn’t hold, no matter how much we try to create the normal response it weakens.

Is there divinity in humans? If so why do I feel outside of that too. Is every soul a leaf in God, the uplifting force that comes from our other planes.

I know someone… Really really well. When we talk it hurts because we are contently hurting each other by love. With our honesty, spairing the others feelings, thinking they love you differently than you love them.

But when you know someone that well they become more than matter. You see their soul, Their devinity, their bubbly demeanour and their spiky thorn’s. That person becomes a taste, a scent, a flame for your candle heart. It’s the one person who you know inside out and it’s difficult to know if you can ever know anyone truly because you’ve opened this person right up. To the point where they are terrified yet amazed you stayed. We are living butchers. It’s how we love, messily and roughly but we’re learning tenderness. We practice it like it is always shown to us. That love is so powerful, when we try to emulate it we hurt one and other. It has to be made our own. It has to be channeled into the other person. And accepting has many forms, some you can never see until, like bamboo seeds, they shoot up in a matter of days. Laying roots is important and we can forget that.

We could wish to have our love at different times but the world thrust us together at a very specific period, in a very specific place knowing we could only grow roots because we are not yet ready to shoot up. We have learning and loving to practice. We have peace and joy to share. Our importance is embedded in the Earth like a snow flake in the sky. It seems like it is weak and minor but it could change the very scene of the world. Yet gently and peacefuly to persevere the roots below.

And in wet cotton blanks we stare at the moon. Apart yet linked. I am cared for. You are my rock. I am a snowflake in creation and yet there is something that makes melting away worth the effort of effortless falling.

Our ellipsis is cold in the winter and we are cold to it too. Let spring be our time. Let’s open a hotel called “The Ellipsis…” And a restaurant called “Me Bear and Grill”. Let’s have infinite rooms and a kitchen with gluten free cookies. A library which carries the wisdom of many believers and faiths. A room to relax and create and fill it with plants. A room where we can be scilent yet together. Where we can just work on our own things but look at the other person and laugh knowing that we are in the same place, in the others heart as they beat together.

I am deeply sorry for being ignorant of our ellipsis. Of forgetting that even though we were together we shouldn’t loose it. I quenched the warm fire with water because I thought that that place was done for our use. It had no more people to entertain. I forgot that it was always a part of us. And now I remember when I’m falling deeply somewhere else. Forgive me in my foolishness. Let’s relight the log and heat it up. 

Winters do not last long and we are near spring, where we can discover and summer, where you and me will always dwell on the shore side. In that hallway. Across the green sloaps and mountains. In that Abby and that bay. 

Winter is cold and hard. But that’s changing now