Reach for the Stars


You don’t see the snow

or sense the chill;

you take no notice

of calendar pressures

or time-punched directives to save daylight.

Faith runs like sap,


pulse pounding

at sight of Sun,

maidenly blush

suffusing veins

and stirring soul.

Every cell needed

to produce the scent of lilac

already quivers on

your assembly lines,


as yet formless,

conceived in eternal code.


you don’t see the snow

or sense the chill;

you just

reach for the stars…


Breaking Through


Forest feels like second skin by now,

beam upon beam raised in self-defence.

Logging permits don’t pass easily –

deforestation is distinctly painful.

But when pines part,

oxygen stirs,

canopy is cut,

there You are,

breaking through boughs,

 illuminating dark and stained cells,

ushering in daylight

where angels feared to tread.

And as dead branches fall,

tentacles tremble in triumph;

sap stirs

and green grows

and oh, the grace

of breaking through…