Tuesday, 11 August 2009



We are all so gifted, with gifts we cannot even see.
Forest birds, salmon, poetry and coral shells sing diamond bright,
beauty inside shining aloud

of presence, things, and places we yearn for – rifts
to be healed, views to be seen, precipices
challenged, bells tolled and pealed, witch-hazel
blossomed –

and always have, if we would
simply open our hearts and minds to our own gifts.

Which if left unspent, may spread
like an acid river and darkly atrophy.

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