I am a thing of darkness
I am a thing of light
I am on a journey to find peace,
and appreciate both.

The demons, the shadows,
the fear, the jangling inside,
I see my mirror self
and look me in the eye.

Green like mature fern fronds,
Black centre - whirlpool to the core,
to the night,
to sleep and stars and roots,
the rich earth of who I am.

to put the burden down
to say what is in your heart
to let go and go for a walk
healing

just write something
put words on the page -
scratching in electrons
that I exist
in the here and now -
it is Spring,
I see the blossom,
ephemera of life,
under the blanket of a white and grey sky,
change and the rolling out of the days,
repetition and transience,
nothing/everything is the same as yesterday,
breathe in
breathe out
the rolling out of time
the uncurling of fern fronds
the river always/never the same
the processes
the waves
the stars out of sight
I miss the touch of another human being,
ephemera

Trump America's orange crush with fascism
a long held flirtation that has born strange fruit
America born in the name of freedom and slaughtered the Native people
directly or through disease
Land of slavery
Manifest destiny
and Bible bigotry

America that put a man on the moon
ended slavery
gave us Hollywood and Jazz, the internet and poets
stood up in WW1 and WW2
stood up to Stalin
America the refuge for Europe's poor and hungry
Refuge from Hitler

America so full of horror and hope

being, listening,
in the dark, in the quiet
of a new morning;
breathing in and breathing out,
in my mind's eye: a candle

there is nothing in my life
except plants,
and books,
and music,
and friends,
and my faults,
and kindness
and love

The warp and the weft.
Trying to brew a poem,
but it eludes me.