Here’s to Everyday Miracles
Here’s to courage, strength and hope
Here’s to love, embracing the faltering in warm arms
And never letting go
Nothing but the here and nowness of you matters;
Tides persist, skies heave and sway and the damp earth
nurtures
Still, the smell of you feeds me, my soul’s small self
I cannot breathe with joy!
Here’s to everyday miracles
© GD 5/09/12
Magical marvellous Midsummer Night
Magical marvellous Midsummer Night;
With its dreams of a future that hastens too fast
Was the sense that our
present is ever in flight,
Like the swift-dipping bats,
as they silently passed.
Magical marvellous Midsummer Night!
Full of musical joy and
Shakespearean rhyme
That held onto a moment and
captured it tight;
All was hidden, misplaced and
revealed in that time.
Magical marvellous Midsummer Night;
As one chapter is ending
another one starts,
In the damp of a garden
suspended with light,
While the music of memory
cradled our hearts.
© Gabby Dawnay June 2013
The words I cannot say
The poem I cannot send
The words, "how are you doing?" trip like automatons over my lips
Too late.
For I know too well that a fragment of something intangible
For I know too well that a fragment of something intangible
has lodged in your soul,
opening an inviolable wound.
I imagine you now live in a perception of what it really is
to be (or not to be) here on this heavy earth,
because that other place has slipped through
and with invisible hands
stolen the beat of your life,
leaving the taste of 4am in each moment.
Do I want to know that
with a hazy forgetfulness you awake rapt
and are destroyed every single morning?
Sometimes, you say, the soft drum of remembrance fades in slowly,
sometimes it strikes like a wincing knife on bone.
"How are you doing?" is a hollow nothing
Because I cannot bear that pain.
It is yours alone
and too private.
You have become a glutton for grief.
You devour it to fill the empty space that was once
the living, loving flesh of your flesh.
And you howl with anger as your sorrow slides away
down a flume into nothing,
only to be replenished.
You have become a glutton for grief.
You devour it to fill the empty space that was once
the living, loving flesh of your flesh.
And you howl with anger as your sorrow slides away
down a flume into nothing,
only to be replenished.
For all you really want is life as it once was,
with him returned.
The smell of him, the breath of him
his whole self; solid, warm
held and loved entirely.
© GD February 2014
I am the light that soared
I am the light that soared
bursting from nothing into brilliant being!
When the dark sky wraps a thousand dreams
in a blanket of winking stars…
there am I.
I am the brightness in heavenly streams
of consciousness
I am in each particle that floats
and spins on moonbeams
I am the almost imperceptible warmth
that melts frost-spiked leaves.
The normality of variety
Life in all its random games,
The breadth and depth of thought
The expectation of experience
The journey ahead, around, above and beyond
each path you tread.
I sing exuberantly
in a voice that clears the shadows!
Poised, watching, sure.
I am the answer to silence,
I am the love that will endure.
I am ready, steady GO!
The ebb and flow
Of Hope, Potential.
I was and always will be
Playful, sparkling
Possibility.
© Gabby Dawnay, January 2013
For Silas
