I Am A Battlefield 

I see my fingers unfurl like a flower
Planting my banner in battle blood
I see the empty bowls of my hands
Plunging into water crystal pure
I see black birds circling like a wind
Calling peace down their hollow beaks

My companion, silence, waits for me
Knowledge speaks to me in silence
Wisdom finds his way through carnage
Enlightenment climbs steps of wisdom
Peace takes the hands of enlightenment
On this battlefield of blood and self


The chilly wind that will take you away,
storms in from the far flung west
falling down a frozen mountain side
hugging me briefly on my abandoned shore
before grabbing hold of your dazzling sails.

The chilly wind that will take you away,
steals a piece of my warm and glowing heart
holds it in its icy hand dancing across the water
hugging you briefly on your solitary ship
before splashing it on your dazzling sails.


The final note disappear into smokey spaces lingering between empty glasses.
Longing fingers reaching out for lonely promises reflected on the tired faces.
We close our eyes to protect ourselves from the desperate truth of the dying light.
Keep the words of our desires hidden behind the walls of many a futile night.

All I can offer you is the soft and gentle touch of a loving warm embrace.
All I can give is the hope engraved on peaceful kind lips touching your face.
All I can be is a small flame in the midst of your wild unpredictable storm.
All I can do is to take your hand when empty heartlessness becomes the norm.

The Namib

There is a vast space inside of me.
Created in the heart of the Namib desert.
On a night so dark that you could feel it.
A night so quiet that you could hear it.
Where I was one with everything.
I could not see where I ended
and infinity began.
Where the stars were so bright
that you could reach into the Milky Way, stir the pond with your fingers.
In this space I stand humbled.
Star dust reaching out to star dust.

The Knight

The knight, weary and battle scarred
Drops his heavy armour to the ground
He builds a fire without a single word
Exhaling, bends his tired knees to sit
He waits
No more will he go out from this place
No more bloody battles will he fight
No more conquering and subjecting
No more creating of wealthy empires
He waits
One by one they come and sit
Staring at the old wrinkly hermit sage
Speaking soft words of quiet wisdom
The fire reflecting in his eyes