Season’s change

Heat, it hits you like a wave, and so I seek the shadows. I feel the easing of the sun, as from day to night I seem to run. Yet, shadows cling to trees and shrubs, and soon I must embrace the oven’s dare as cities seem to shatter trees and barren black top breeds.

Cold, it wraps me in its hands that burn. I shield myself in wool and fleece, as I step within its white embrace. It brings the shivers out to play and scares my toes as frosty needles pierce! I plough through crystals glowing bright, and see the fire in the sky yet sadly heat has taken flight!

Seasons flow and then recede. This flux excites creation’s candour. Transitions bring encounters fresh, where once again I shift and rest. Then, bright green growth stirs up my heart. I soar alive in passion’s heat, then slowly watch it freeze in winters sleep.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Advertisements

Driving me

So many things can drive me!

Life is framed by choices made. Yet so often, the instant course corrections that meander through my day, occur without my conscious say! I had intended to grab a coffee but as I go, I meet a friend! We put our heads together and a tangent frames my day!

Now, what occurs behind my eyes, when in those moments I must choose, to stay within the plans I’d made, or shift and spend my time with you! It is within those swirling depths, that  impulse moves, or, shifts and lurks. What do I value? Am I truly free? Or, is a beast alive inside of me?

The pressures that do drive me, I am learning now to see. They often do surprise me with demands that are severe! If I am living unaware, they quickly overwhelm my sensibilities and I am moved to act by relics left behind by previous storms and eventualities. I then am left with ponderings in the middle of the night; regarding the many sorrows that partnered with my precious life this day.

So again I wake and make a firm resolve.  I want to hear Spirit’s whisper, that reminds me of fresh delight. I must remind my heart to pause upon this precipice of choice! This presence speaks a freedom for me from those dark masters in my night. I’m open once again – curious, eager – to dance within the storm and not simply run in anguish; driven to be forlorn.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Any sense of you

When we live within what’s comfort,

When my normal looms large and strong,

That is when I most likely lose,

any sense of you at all.

 

When I see you acting strangely,

I can quickly then conclude,

That is why I’m so much better

than you, the one whose plans are loose!

 

When I am struggling with things beyond me,

when I need fresh glimpses in my muse,

Then I am bereft of comfort,

As I stumble blind – confused.

 

It is your hand that brushes by me,

breaks into my thoughts and fear.

You are different, so see in colour,

while black and white just brings me grey.

 

It hurts my heart to need another,

I am scared and fear to trust.

When I open and face your beauty,

I find strength in your difference.

 

So to chose each day’s discomfort,

bridging difference in the storm.

As I rest in hope believing,

you’re my complement reborn.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Integrating experience

Miracles have happened before my eyes!

I have felt body parts shift beneath my hand. When the unusual happens, our minds can’t comprehend. Yet there is that sense of wonder that answers a deep longing buried deep within. Our western mind is trained to query that which hasn’t been seen before. This western mindset denies that anything spiritual even exists!

Yet I have seen!

Others hear my stories and listen with quiet eyes. There is polite acknowledgement and yet uncertainty makes questions die. Why does curiosity die when something strange occurs?

We would rather live without wonder than challenge core assumptions!

So many lives are trapped with pain and questions chew within. Answers aren’t found in textbooks, when a spirit aches within. Hope is real and is found in a dimension close at hand.  To reach out and wonder is the first step in a journey of delight.

Yes, I have known!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Canadian waiting room

People peer and people hide, people scurry around inside.

Busy lives occupied, and then collide! – caught in a waiting room.

Different journeys all coincide, they pull us together, side by side.

Some are sick and others tired; one is supporting while another strides.

All together in one room, waiting their turn to leave this doom.

 

Eyes are glued to cell displays, some are earnest with video games,

All can feel each other’s vibes, crowded around yet locked outside.

Brief encounters cause a smile, especially when caused by an innocent tike.

In spite of proximity, silence reigns, then there’s a giggle that doesn’t end.

Transparency’s blessing brings relief, as one small child distracts his friend.

 

Busy lives wrenched by chaotic waves, yet walls erected keep things “safe”.

People drift in with worries and fears, shrivel within because no one dares.

Kept apart by fearful restraint, tumbled lives twirl with no incident.

Alone and silent, each in turn, take harried hearts in for pills that burn.

Each of us miss the  treasure beside us, because we insist on the silence that hides us.

Author – Bill Tidsbury