16/12/2005

Life comes to this sudden standstill,
Bringing along with it a certain emptiness.
You don't know where you are heading to,
What the closed fist of nature will reveal when opened.

It feels like standing at the sea,
On a beautiful, golden evening
When everything seems so perfect, so right.

The wet sand clings to your feet,
Leaves indifferently with every wave
The same wave that once personified exhilaration, ecstasy and profound peace.

The frothing, foaming waves catch you at unawares,
Holding your hand, inviting you to step into the sea
Your naivete makes you easy prey,
Unaware of the dangers that lie beneath its vast, inviting surface.

Sometimes you stand back,
Hoping to make a conscious decision.
But then chide yourself,
Realising,
The sea continues its motion rather condescendingly
Your presence lies unnoticed
Another speck of sand......

Beginnings or Ends

Receding waves, traces of footprints in the sand.

Unwound lengths of wool.

A name written across the foggy window.

A secret love affair. A heart broken into millions of tiny pieces.

A flower blooms.

A cocoon is forced open.

Are these beginnings or ends?

And Life?

Fools

'Fools, we all are. Fools in love. '

strangers

'When loved ones become strangers, then strangers become friends.'

Of hands

They have their own conversations - hands.

Hands held, under the yellow streetlight on a long drive; endless. Hands held, round the corner, more alcoholic, than the beer that flows at the pub. Hands held, at the cafe, having their own affair to the jazz in the background.

Her fingers entangled in your fingers. Her fingers wrapped around your fingers. Her fingers dancing to their own music,making love, engrossed in your heartbeat.

Hands, strong and powerful. Hands, soft and sweet.

Your fingers intertwined around hers, across the setting sun, the splashing waves. Your fingers protecting hers, wet in the drenching rain. Your fingers holding hers, tight and warm, and tiny snowflakes.

Holding each other, committing to each other, making promises to the heart.

They have their own conversations -hands, conversations for a lifetime.