magic web on wizard's teasels

Blow away the cobwebs

Sitting in my empty shop I don't want to feel
Like a spider with one foot on my web,
Tugged from daydream or despair
Each time someone drifts in,
Floats round, drifts out.
Their “thank you”s are followed
By my “you're welcome”s
Aiming to appear
Cheerily sincere.

Sometimes a gentle contact is casually offered:
Little touches of people's lives,
Snippets and snapshots for me to keep,
Tiny confidences exchanged and
Sudden open truths freely given,
To be lodged safe with a stranger.

I'm thankful for that change of air:
When the shutters are thrown wide,
The human spirit wafts through
Like a warm spring breeze,
And breathes fresh life into me.

.

face the sun ...

To find it, I ask where it is

It's in my breath.
I see it in the joyful line between my eye
and that tiny blue-tit feeding her tiny chick.
It's in the sky. I can always call it from the sky.

My lover brings it up close, face to shining face,
and twinkles it into my eyes, warmth
chuckling around each rolling joke.
He pulls my now from frown to smiles.

I have it in the knowledge of who I am,
sometimes small, sometimes strong.
The evening blackbird drops it into my ears.
Freesias dust it dancing through my nose.

Beech trees hand it back to me, their strong arms
bare in winter, summer leaves a baffling glory -
so many acres of fine green, drinking light.
That familiar forest avenue holds it for me.

It glows its way into me from the nectarine lines
of that sunset, the one where I learned again to love
what I have, instead of yearning for all that I have not.

It is in the pleasure of connection that all these things bring.
My me. My spirituality. The point of being. Belonging.

.