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Don't ask ...
it's a housekeeping thang

33°57' S 18°24' E
1 July 2008

I've been told that disciples
on a journey of 12 steps
struggle to locate a Higher Power.
In this city, they look up
to a solid lump of sandstone rock
and carefully place their prayers
on the altar of its table top.

More than half a lifetime ago
a small girl visited
her bight eyes, awake, looked up
and fell in love with
its overarching stillness.
When she returned as a woman
a mother, a friend, another's lover
the mountain looms ever the same
yet now it seems aloof and strange.

There's something about this space
that sets the stones in us ajar.
City of light and dark entwined
a playground for the rich and foolish
as well as bread and butter for the poor.
If I'm supposed to build a home upon a rock
how the hell can I ever hope to scale its wall?

That colonial tin-pot bastard Rhodes
planted his first imperial seeds here
Now we (poor sods) reap what he has sown
and carefully water our own small dreams.
In landing here, I hope to find myself
instead, find questions
more immense than any stone.

A Yellow Rose
Wednesday, 9 April 2008

According to those in the know
a yellow rose bud means
friendship and
a still small voice saying
"I care".

I wish I knew the cure for a broken heart
but even if I managed to distil five small drops
of magic spell
I would have swigged the lot
so many heartbreaks ago.

To grow a seed of love
watch it burst into bloom
as you water it with joy and tears
only to see it wither with neglect or betrayal
these are harsh cruel lessons
in this life we call meaningful.

I could be maudlin and say:
every perfect rose
carries an armoured underbelly of thorns
but you know that already.
Better to guard your heart
and allow your own
bruised petals to heal.

Love is not lost
Nor is every lover untrue.
But hope
now there's something
worth keeping alive.

Five
11 November 2003

Exactly five years ago
I held your wrinkly little prune-lined body
in my arms for the first time
You weighed 3.86 kilograms
Almost as much as four bags of sugar
Really nothing at all
but I felt I was holding the world
at my fingertips

I looked into your tiny face
gasped in wonder at the size of your small toes
the length and breadth of your squealing mouth
and your nose, such a cute little button of perfection
like most you announced your arrival
in the earliest hours
so dark we almost took it for a false alarm
but I had to run to keep up with your mom
as she chased around the ward
clutching at her tummy
and yelling at you to
"Hurry up already and get on with it"
(we were so eager to meet you).

Eventually I caught her and rubbed her
lower back for a long time
and held her hand helplessly
as you pushed your way to the surface
and took a lusty gulp of air

A daughter
(we hadn't wanted to know before the time)
a daughter
and I promise when I held you
and gave you your first careful bath
I cried like a baby
Don't know why -
not joy not sadness -
just sheer emotion
at meeting you for the first time
and knowing deep down in my deepest parts
how lucky I am
to have two such special people to love

you and the woman I made you with
now you're five
and alive and smiling and laughing
and for today
"all's right with the world"
as another poet said
and you truly are the princess of today.

eyes to see
sun 12 Oct 2003

You haven’t taken my eyes
but you know why my
sight has forsaken me.
I’m back in the pews
with your people again
praising or bleating
in worship to you
(depending on your perspective)
We like sheep (and goats)
have gone astray even as
we try so hard to follow
a straight path of our own choosing.

You are good and we love you
more than anything
more than eyesight
but I don’t understand you
I never really have.
When I no longer see this path clearly,
please be my eyes and guide my feet.

I love you more than
the eyes I used to know
Some people say:
(call them mixed metaphors
if it pleases your grammar sense)
they’d give their right arm
for a pearl of great price.
Can I truly say:
I’d give my right eye
to know you more
to taste a little bit more
of the depths of your grace?

I’m not sure
(really I’m not)
but given a choice
I want you
and
I also want to keep my eyes.
What good is knowing you
without being able to see
your love in action?
Without being able
to measure (by eye)
the creative leaps and bounds
of your grace?

I love you more
more than I did before
and although this love
I measure out in days and hours
and doctors’ appointments
will wax and wane
I want to believe
that you will
always love me
so much more
than I ever can when
I say I love you.

Give me eyes to see
help this blind seeker
to accept what I struggle
so blindly to understand.

Love me more
so much more
than the meagre portions
of my love for you.

Speak –
your servant
is
listening.

And I want to hear
what you’re whispering
to the ears of my heart
and
please
please
please
teach me how to use
the eyes of my heart.