Winter Flower

Protean water condensates in the Winter Forest,
Cumulatively
Weighing on air
Until it breaks.

Falling to the earth,
To seed the flowers
That do find their roots.

While mumblings
of Good and Evil,
Love and hate,
Unfelt,
Linger in the thoughts of Troglodytes.

The gasp sounds
Of a Sunflower in the Winter Forest.

Letting go,
Becoming yellow in a glow,
Open to the music of quiet.

The Flower gulps a last breath and withers alone in the wind.

And the Troglodytes…

Meandering accessories’
Fabian spirits
Of unfit or the due.


-Ben

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Photography by eberhard grossgasteiger

Caves: #Cycles 6

The volcano opened into me
unexpectedly whipping out,
lashing me into feelings long dormant.

I provoked the eruption
Dancing around it’s openings,
Prancing the periphery,
Singing carelessly into the unknown
Of the caves of conscience
That I had long not entered
Until that day

The lashes tore the mask off my face,
Ripping me from comfort,
Peeling my clinging fingers from safety
I fell

The way to redemption became clear.
As the mist lifted,
That of the healing path opened itself to me…
The path through the caves.

I entered into the darkness.

Days turned to weeks turned to months.
I followed onward
Into the full wrath of the shadows,
Enduring the torment of lost knowledge

Until the shadows opened up the truth to me…
The truth was my death.

Yet in the moment of death
When my light flickered to an end,
The possibility of new beginnings arose at the deepest point,

The inevitable possibility as heirophany birthed itself
In the form of seeds of new light.

From a seed
A new self,
Born as the centre of a new light,
Blossomed forth.

Then it was that I learned,
I was ready to grow.

 


-Ben

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Until that day

Heart thumping in my head,
Sometimes my feet tingle.
My numb hands hold tightly in regret
If only I could just…


There’s nothing else to do,
Just the waiting game.
My friends are the raindrops
While the smiling assassin passes onwards on the waves.

Until that day,

The feeling screeches like a chalk
Dragged slowly over its board,
Stitching, Scratching,
Relentless, until it becomes a part of you.

Until that day,

I’m clinging to my chrysalis
Routines and creature comforts,
Keep me human,
Help me find my way again

To the blank slate

That gives me comfort
When I can feel it
Giving reason to the thumping,
That I can hold if I can make it,
That I might find
And meet my maker.

Until that day,

A smiling swallow limps
Through the valley of grey
To the end light
Where the wind carves
Around a Lotus Flower.

 

 

Serenity

A feeling of oneness

With everything around

The wood

The animals

And the trees

The bird song is music

A celebration of kinship

There is nowhere else to go

Right now

One just sits in the hollow of the feeling,

Nature’s arms wrapped around one as a mother would

To a child,

Bringing them closer

To connect

And protect

Together

Nature and I

Lie in peace

In a willingness to leave

An unashamed cry

Soon it will end

Which is fine

As long as I can try

To remember

The time when I felt whole,

Engulfed in Serenity

 


-Ben

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Wandering

Let the birds watch you

and listen to their call

Simply

Because it is beautiful

 

Let the feet walk you

wherever they ponder,

feel the dry mud and cool stone

maybe the crisp crackles of the twigs

will speak to you

 

Nature knows something

That it is fine

 

Ride the feeling into blissful silence

Simply to have a listen

 

Explore the rough bark of the trees,

They sit there quietly for many centuries

you know

 

There’s no need of a journey,

just simply wander

wondering