Writing

Writing from a Lapidus workshop on Mindfulness and Healing, 27.4.2013

Mindfulness Exercise With A Small Jade Elephantby Terry Simpson

I am not like you, so perfectly moulded,

like history in bad books, soothing to hold

in the palm of a hand. You are exotic,

from an unknown land – I am chaotic,

local, cold from the ordinary hailing stones

that soaked me this morning – aching bones,

wrinkling, dying,

and don’t want to be mindful of this.

I want to fly on wings of words that kiss

the magic forest where its told

carved animals dance and never grow old.

But wait, your trunk is raised in anger

or defiance. Perhaps you are not happy either?

Maybe you just want to be a stone?

Who gave them permission to hone

you down? Perhaps we are not so different,

my little green comrade, fellow traveller, friend.

 

All will be well    by Lizzie Shorrocks

I am walking in the sand and it’s warm on my feet. My mother is holding my hand. The sun is hot. My sister and brother are with us, my father too. We are going on a boat to the coral reef and Ali the boatman is striding beside us, holding the oars in his arms.

I am thinking about them now, my family almost gone, my parents long ago, my siblings here. But they no longer know me, lost in a place I do not recognise. I mourn them. I want to go back to the sand and the sea and the boat when we were starting out and it was good.

But then. I see my grandson at the bedroom window waving as I garden. And I can feel his small warm hand in mine when we walked today in the park with the dog and watched her tricks with the stick. I look up again and he smiles and it feels alright. The world turns with us upon it and it feels alright.

 

The Stone Ravinder gave me   by Anne Maney

The buzz of business, like a horse pulling at reins.

 

The stone, cool and smooth in the palm

marked like a delta seen from a plane

or hidden markings lit by a match

on the wall of a cave.

 

Wading out into sandy shallows

channels that curve round banks of sediment

water tepid, current not wild.

Somewhere out there the open sea –  not for me

stay with these swirls of red and brown

and duck-egg blue.

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