God’s Language

I can sense my blood
moving with the inky tides
angels face the east

between the past and future
dawn illuminates the sky

In the silent hush
of the gentle morning sea
I hear a curlew

that cries the tears of children
 who speak the language of God

by Louise



In thrall

The pull of the moon
moves me to write a poem
in thrall to the tides
I will sleep and dream of you
whispering truths to the sky

by Louise

She dances

 She murmurs softly
from under heavy lashes
bleeding red smudged lips

kiss parched mouths and naked skin,
he’s forgotten who she is.

Her restlessness, a
desire to feel at home, but
she stays out all night

knowing somewhere love is real
flowing like wine in summer.

by Louise 

Morning Glory

Morning light attacks
the sweat of yesterday, still
clinging to my skin

I emerge, flapping into
being, shocked by dazzling white

ecstatic, I hear
echoes, of children dancing
under apple trees

full of foetal half-formed thoughts
laden with fruit, uneaten

by Louise 

Dance of the stars

Will I ever learn
about the universe or
stars that shine on earth
speak of the One who sits with
me, in dark reality
“The universe lies before you on the floor, in the air, in the mysterious bodies of your dancers, in your mind. From this voyage no one returns poor or weary.”  ~ Agnes De Mille