Ireland

Mist clings to the wool of my jacket

Chill morning air stings my face

The leaden roof of clouds

Presses against the green-grey countryside

I breathe the land

Filling the vacant corners of my being

My rolling hills

And rocky shores

The endless bed of grass that softens my steps

My thoughts and dreams finding a resting a place

In the tracks I leave behind

Touching the Sky

There are times

When the sky is so blue

It hurts to not be immersed in it

And the desperate feeling

That if I just tried hard enough

If I connected to that space inside that holds me to the ground

And cut the string

I could soar into that expanse

Brings tears to my eyes

Afternoon Tea

Late in the day

Cold and weary

Worn out from the noise

And needs of others

I find myself empty

And lonely                 

A quiet corner

A soft chair

A cup of tea

The company of myself

My thoughts and reflections

Warming me more than my drink

Comforted and comfortable

Amidst the lengthening shadows

And the blanket of quiet

That converge with the setting sun