Halfway to brimful

Life is half empty 

Half way there

Half left to dreams unfulfilled 

Half too scared to dream

Life is half empty 

Hopes trading places 

With fears shuffling 

for space in ever narrowing minds

Life is half empty 

Waiting in vain for secure

Bank statements tallying up

Positive integers for a change 

But then one day there is laughter

Sloshing around in my half emptiness

The smiles of friends

And warm hugs encircling body fat

Sagging bodies chasing bouncing kids

There is space in my half emptiness

For love and healing hurt and the 

Brightness of young eyes all around

I am glad of my half emptiness 

This space to fill with 

All of you I hold dear

On this day 

mundane as any other 

Made special by these generous

Generic humans 

Filling my half empty life 

3.7.17

Firefly

With bated breath

I wait 

hoping not to hear 

strange footsteps

In the night

As time trickles through

Desperate hands

cupped in vain

My mind wanders aimlessly

down alleyways

Where Darkness fears to tread

"Why have you forsaken me?"

I ask the Sandman

When a gentle finger alights -

On my shoulder

Lending deliverance

And I sleep in the soft glow

Of a little firefly

An impossible task

Saw this online

https://youtu.be/4dA7WnsWk04
So beautiful that I had to try
An unworthy translation
In the early morning light
Unsolicited and perhaps illegal
Just to see if language really is
A barrier to beauty and love

So here with apologies to the author
Mr Rafeeq Ahamed
Who I have never met
Is my vain attempt to capture
The magnificence of his words

Dedicated as ever to
That constant companion


When Death arrives

When Death arrives I wish you
To be here by my side

To run my gnarled fingers - stiff
from scooping embers -
Through the comfort of your hair

To let my final breath share the
Gentle air that you exhale

To soak my world weary eyes
In the soft radiance of your face

To fill my worn out ears with
The sweet seal of your whispers

To spread the green salve of your
memory as thoughts melt
Off my fevered brow

To move my lips in silent prayer
As they hold dear old footprints
Of your kiss

To rest my burning feet as they
Dream footfalls of your love

That would suffice
My love

For this lucky one
To resurrect

A blade of grass
Cutting through all that
Dark earth that holds me dear

Humility

As I sipped sweet tea under the high ceiling of his old Art Deco style house I hinted at my work in measured tones of understated self indulgence.

"University of Cambridge" he mused, "very good" he said, before moving on to a parable originally attributed to Sri Ramakrishna Paramahamsa:

A salt doll journeyed for thousands of miles and stopped at the edge of the sea. It was fascinated by this moving liquid mass, so full of life and mystery and promise, so unlike anything it had seen before.

"What are you?" asked the salt doll. 

"Come in and see" replied the sea with a smile. 

So the salt doll waded in, thinking to itself: "I will dive to the depths of this new, wonderful thing so that I can fathom its dark insides and tell all my friends when I go back home" 

Before long, as it dissolved to nothing and yet became everything in the sea, with its last conscious thought the doll exclaimed in wonder:

"Now I know what I am!"

Slowly I realised that this gentle host of mine was teaching me the first lesson in research ...

Humility