Writing followed using a poem born in a Water Story session, the child of Pat Sutherland.
Bon Voyage (originally "Way to Go")
by Pat Sutherland
and when the heart’s
message falters
and the blood stills
I will drag my ebbing thoughts
beyond the grim confines
of what is real
to see one last time
the white mountain
the thousand blackbird mornings
the green lake
the tiny snake
polished amulet
on wet shingle
watch clouds tumbling
in bog myrtle air
hear the curlew’s winging cry
rising from a fire
of heather
feel the deck’s tilt
the bow wave splayed
submissive to the prow
crush dried thyme
fragrant underfoot
taste the warm wine
of a jasmine scented night
touch a child’s soft cheek
and take one rosy kiss
lie in dearest arms
let
darkness
gather
The writing prompt for the day was
take your thoughts beyond
and here is some of the writing that came out of the session - many thanks to the contributors, keep 'em coming!
Isles of Scilly
by Judith Boardman
Take your thoughts beyond the confines and the boundaries of this lock-down, Covid space. Travel in your fevered mind to where the ferry pulls up at the quay and your first step ashore on to the island brings familiar release and healing. The knots that have tied your senses into a tight bundle of forgetfulness begin to loosen with the sudden screech of the tern. The blue of the agapanthus dazzles your bleary eyes with its vividness. The salt air smarts on your cracked, dry tongue. The stink of sea kelp clears your nostrils. The cool breeze calms your burning cheek and trembling fingers steady, as they stroke the sparkles in the granite wall. The vast, open sky envelopes you with opportunity. You gaze across the water, vision clearing, eager to explore. The wracking pain dissolves and lungs take down the purifying air. You stride out, free, welcoming new possibilities.
Is This The Way To Live?
by Terry Baldock
What do you do when you’ve waited so long,
To touch, hold, feel the breath
Of your first grandchild?
But that child’s soft cheek
That you have yearned
For many years,
Is forbidden to your touch.
Any pictures of you and her
Show a masked adult
With tearful eyes,
And that moment can never be repeated,
Ever.
Lost to some awful scourge.
But there will always be memories,
You may say,
But memories are not made of this,
But of a baby’s rosy kiss
That you cannot feel
Or give,
Is this the way to live?
thoughts beyond
by Sandra Birnie
It’s hands that do dishes. That stop in the bubbles. Fingers pink. Who knows what’s lurking under the foam? Look up. Look up and out of the window (needs a clean). Look up and let your thoughts free. Free to wander in the green and blue and puddling dark with memories and chuckles and tugging away. Away.
There’s a moment when the joy of flying high over the town seems possible. When the free-floating flutter of wings can take you away. And the town seems distant. And the house a spot in the blended colour of buildings. And the kitchen unseen and the sink where your fingers wrinkle does not exist. Here you are free to imagine and plan your wickedness. Fight your battles. Take up arms and win. And the sky holds you up and the seagulls dance a tango in the sunlight and you stretch and breathe and feel the air soft around you.
Thoughts beyond…
by Kath Higgens
I sit here in the warmth of the sun,
a tree at my back,
a river before me,
and I plunge deeper,
I lift my eyes higher,
for there are worlds out there.
Beyond my thoughts,
whole galaxies exist,
unseen, unheard.
The shoals of fish choosing
their special niches,
those in the mud,
looking up at those above;
those near the surface,
spying those mid-way.
The swans sink their dirty
necks in among the reeds,
the dabchicks dive,
the ducks paddle.
The damselflies skitter
choosing not to linger,
the dragonflies chase,
as is their nature.
Winged but lowly,
they are more riverine
than tree-line.
Above is the domain
of squawking, squabbling,
chittering, chattering,
warbling songsters,
all knowing their place –
high in the branches, well out of sight,
or on the extremest twig-end;
home of the crawlers and lurkers
that nourish the singers,
the tree opens her generous arms;
all are welcome here.
This is our world, to cherish
and notice, to protect and extol.
Worlds beyond our own,
On which we depend.
Thanks to you all...
Anja: Thank you for creating this wonderful, calm and safe space. I appreciate it very much. And thank you to all the other writers for sharing your beautiful words. Be safe and well.
Phyllis: I thank everyone for their writing and I really enjoyed the class.
Terry: As ever the mindfulness and writing complemented each other perfectly. The prompts always set the mind off in different directions. It is a perfect two hours.
Isabel: As always, a safe, loving space to let free my mind and listen to others' deep dives. Thank you.
Kay: thankyou so much Bev and Adrianne for another wonderful session, the mindfulness is so nourishing and is definitely a perfect complement to the writing. I was really moved by the pieces shared; a great morning and a great end to the week and can’t wait for next week.
Eileen: Wow, Pat’s piece really inspired wonderful contributions from folk. Thank you everyone, Adrienne and Bev
Mo: Thanks to you both for an inspiring and relaxing session.
Sandra: Thank you and Adrienne so much for Friday’s session. I come away feeling relaxed and full of possibility!
