Wedding vows

I respect a promise as an unbreakable truth.I think of it as the rings we will wear. 

A promise encircles and binds us both, with no beginning, middle or end. 

So I promise to be accountable for my own happiness; there will be challenges and trials ahead,
but I ask for us to share the burdens, celebrate our successes and learn from our mistakes. 

I promise to practise the virtues of patience, tolerance, forgiveness, and understanding often laid
waste in the world we live. 

I promise a labyrinthine love without complacency, already taken root in a foundation we have built
through weathers fair and foul. 

When I experience something new, I want you to be there with me. 

I promise my life with you, for you, and only you.

(September 17th 2016)



I have this wonderful gift called time. I can sit on a train and enjoy its presence. In the capitalist handbook time is considered low value, but high cost. It has no material form yet we all notice its absence. Both friend and foe, how do we flip it from enemy to ally?

Status anxiety 

We fortify from danger:

assassins in faces of smiling strangers

virtual enemies in their virtual webs

politics and economics lost to chaos that decide our fates.

We send emissaries to greet the unknown:

riders of fear, and mistrust.

They evaluate, and permute through distorting lenses

and we wait impatiently,

seeking sign of return from fortress apertures that gradually narrow our views.

Imprisoned in amour plated hearts,

and hidden in cages with locks so intricate there is no key

we seek shelter in the half light of life,

bent and broken,

repeating rituals

to conjure spirits of freedom.


To be an explorer

when time was hidden

with the thrill 

of discovery

in places remote

and ahead 

are days of travel

to return

carrying tales of wonder.

Amongst ancient ruins

Nature claims it’s own

without judgement 

or rebuke.

Like Brahma and Shiva:

to create, must be destroyed 

As vines take root 

in sculpted stone.


Here we are again- after Dad. 

I watch her fork shuffle food.

She is independent, fierce 

and frightened. 

She is alone 

and pain is her last friend. 

I watch her in hospital,

how many times 

does her story need to be told?

Trying to say the right thing,

trying to be dignified and strong.

How can I help? What can I do?

You don’t know her.

I don’t care about tests, treatments and diagnoses

I just want you to know her.


To sit, to hold, to be, 


I’m not ready for this.