We are all of lifewho stepped from the seatrading weightless journeys of the currentsWe are all of lifewho build and tear down and build againto find gold and silverto find scars that weep and bleedto step from the seato stay with the sea

WINTER'S GHOST:Autumn moonincautious in the dark riverWinter’s ghost walkswith a covered faceand silver bones wait in all animalsto be bone cloth upon her shoulderwait for her happiness in that they are silver

Drink in the heat of an ancient sun held in the cold fire of water rising from earth and rockSpilling over your cupped handsand drawn to lips and tonguePouring water’s memoryof the azure mist it fell frominto the chalice of your fleshTurning your eyes skywards with desire for the freedom it was born of

The forest rose like a dream from the mind of Chaos’s lonely daughter and the sun fell heavy and thick to warm the blood of a world not quite ready to live but so tired of its own imagination

The storms inside uncoilinto sky held calm by far seeing eyesMemories dressed in the translucenttrickery of the mind,so as to wear life upon themselves,give up their tired dance and runinto free frequency

Strange to feel in flesh weaker than the skin of water hung over the long bones of the shoreline To feel as though drowning, still breathing, moving into logical tides and daybreaks

Beneath the gentle gaze of a god turned in stone holding the dreaming wish of safety in our arms

A far horizon embraced by cloud like a nameless God beautiful and evaporating

My silence – this gentle frost turning slowly far beneath the skin