Wheels within wheels, time within times where was no time, moving in four directions all at once . . .

Wheels Within Wheels

TIME within times where was no time

Wheels within wheels

Moving in all four directions, at once

Where the fruit of perfect answers were

Priceless returns of lost things found

The heart’s first dream and least hope 

Was seen and held there---

In all the pear tree’s travels to distant places

In other times

Ground by windmill stones beside the sea

Those tiny pips in pairs the pear tree grew

My answers lost and found

Made bread and meat

And I saw what it meant to be loved in the Lover

Taken with him there---where life was---

Crushed and bruised for the food of life

 

                                       *

                                               Illustration from: Volume Three: The Ragged Writings of Everland; 'Arkiahh Dreaming' 

NEW POEM: 'There is no such thing as nothing; out of nothing were all things created . . .'

There is No Such Thing as Nothing                                        

There is no such thing as nothing

Out of nothing were all things created

More could be made out of nothing

Than out of something

For there was no limitation to it

It was as elastic as infinity

In the containing of everything

‘Nothing’ rejected no, colour

So it was colourless---

But pregnant---with endless possibilities---

Until the brush of one’s imagination

Painted it with what was desired

In the containing of everything:

‘Nothing’ held all, miracles

All that was ever needed

Came of it---by faith

When---in perfection---all things are taken

We are left nothing. Full stop!

And for a long while

Nothing feels like nothing

And the unbelieving---feel cheated

But those that believe---begin again

Knowing they have all things and they do

                                                                   * 

                                              from:  ARKIAHH DREAMING; The Ragged Writings of Everland; Volume Three.  

                                                

N.B.   All my artwork is done completely by hand....(No ‘Photoshop,’ etc.)....I create on paper with pencils and erasers, and different sized ink pens, (and sometimes brush and watercolours,) and a tiny sharp craft knife, for stenciling. Afterwards, I scan the finished picture into my laptop; and from there into my books and this Blog.

Why Was One Lonely . . .

                                - from:  Arkiahh Dreaming; The Ragged Writings of Everland; Volume Three

The Moment of the Dawning . . .

                  The End and the Beginning

It was early dawn...

and the dew...

as fire now beneath my bare feet...

I saw gleaming upon the long cold grass

distilling diamond perfection from the breath of sky

inwardly mingling with the soft utterings of earth.

Through wide spaces

between the thinning trees of the wood

I saw the east writing lines of gold in the sky

loosely held on ribboned-threads of low cloud.

I saw the expanse rising as an endless wonder

above the bars of paling topaz...

and all the calming colours found in apricot and lilac

soon fading to a fragile hint of rose 

had caught me...

till I looked up higher

to a clear deep blue, far above...

then down...

catching glimpse of its reflection upon the distant pool

and upon the slow, polished stream beyond the wood.

And within the watery capturing, it seemed to me,

as though the hollowed-out depths of the sky

unto the furtherest reaches of its endless wisdom

was something the earth must at all costs

reach up and take hold of,

that it might apprehend that for which it had been made,

and that all who saw it

might be apprehended of God, himself, 

as he intended.

It was the in-between

of true night and day, so early was it,

when the strange light... 

that was the end of one and the beginning of the other

mingles for one timeless moment

and I was there and I saw it:

the merging of light and the mystery of the dawning...

the fearsome dominion of night

where sleep could not hold me

giving place to the renewing rule of day...

and the hidden fragrance that was there

only in that fleeting moment...

And filled...

with well watered brimming-over joy...

the long fear of night...a fear no longer!

                                                          

                                            *

                              - from:   'Arkiahh Dreaming:' The Ragged Writings of Everland; Volume Three

One of the calligraphic illustrations in the 'ragged writings' book: Arkiahh Dreaming . . .

Poetry & Art . . . A Child Enters in the Unseen Image of the Visible . . .

(Poetry) A Wisp of Air My Tears Shines Through

[ - from: THE RAGGED WRITINGS OF EVERLAND: Volume One: # 7;  8 ]

7. A Wisp of Air My Tears Shine Through

                                                                             

ENCASED WITHIN the travelled chest a treasure rare

Of un-pillaged plunder wrapped in coats of skins

The key the map the compass for the find were there

In Everland hid the fragrant heart at one with love

Script in sand engraved through fire in glass

Carried timeless in its purse, its secret fold of words

Engrafted life encoded there, in living jars of clay

As see-through as a wisp of air in nothingness clad

A stone was thrown and broken light spilled out

Of a perfect fashioner the hurt of every jar

How else escaped the light, that left buried deep would die

If scattered only by a tear it could forge of life its seal

Of each season borne the life produced twelve fruits

Green leaf in drought, up-springing joy in dearth

Living letters inscribed inside in every hue of gold

And shades of shadows left, went no more right through

Belts that tie the windless horn to its strength

Held in dust the captured message from the dawn of time

Bound in glory wrapped in living skins of hope

Cords of love the tie that kept the unfathomed dust afloat  

Within the sea of life the hidden script was laid

A sword to grind the jars their light in dust to leave

Pride lost, then on every hill a thing of freeing praise 

And the more did broken open letters fly in scrolls of flesh

                             *

                        8. Unclouded Truth

FROM UNCLOUDED truth let my tears shine through 

Where the angel roses flower celestial bright

Where the rosebuds of a broken realm can rest

Rare blossoms where their hearts had dared

Pierced the inner rose by love in crystal drops  

From out of darkness where the light shines

Sight they find from blindness tinged with red

The truth from which every selfish heart is hid

Crushed the lilies by love’s most tender hand

Wide the fragrant places where their flower died

From pearled valleys steeped in grief they ran

This joy from which the untouched flower hides

End of night, let light from unknowing shine

From dawn love opens stooped to rightly hear

To comfort hearts that cry from all hurting places

Kind her hid surprise in truth’s slant circuit laid

Cached of love in safety from the prudent and the wise  

Turned upside down the truth she hid in secret places

That none might read to steal she buried light in darkness

Foolish faith not cleverness finds decrease delight

Of love’s own prism split the fragments of the light

Weighed in measures none could fathom truth’s surprise 

That in their going under babes could comprehend

And in their knowing nothing, find in loss the light

    
                                             *

Poetry: Vol. 3. ) The Ragged Writings of Everland... Arkiahh Dreaming

To Poetry Returned . . . Dreams to Take You Through

 THE RAGGED WRITINGS OF EVERLAND:  Volume Three: 2018:

          Arkiahh Dreaming    

As well as writing a series of picture book short stories (...and I will continue to post these on this site from time to time...) I have recently written a new, third volume of 'ragged writings:'continuing an inner-given adventure in free-flow writing. The more I write in this vein the greater the joy and freedom; for through the liberty that this style of poetry accords, I find my inmost spirit released and my heart grown fearless to better express its hidden treasure. I hope you will join me in this new adventure. Posting these new poems... every day... as from today.

                         
                                                              *

Dreams to Take You Through

DREAMS TO TAKE you through

Offered gifts being held out to you

Not denied any perfect place

Opening in a purposed heart

A child’s lisp sent through air

A book written by a sparrow

From fledglings in springtime

Come little, lit flows of words

Longing and hungry for more

But not taking the time to eat

Finished rags gone unconsumed

A songbird seen through the gap

Quick droplets fall all in tune

For as long as sound filled holes

Rounds in circled playgrounds

Pools playing multiple songs

Winds roar for fear of obstacles

Words speaking in closed mouths

Moon-dew held in warped windows

A settled idleness in dank holes

For as long as it shall pour

Her secrets shall be watered

Growth out of dark holes

For small lines take their time

Out of darkness the light shines

Out of what wasn’t seen, seeing appears

The mystery of the lighted thing

Kept-sounds hid from closed minds

Fall from a cracked jar

And find being, being broken

Your watered inner secrets

Growing out of all dark places

                                     *

Vol. 2. / 160.) Backwards And Forwards

It was backwards and forwards

And what was before . . .

With what would come afterwards

And the revealing of mysteries

In retelling my stories . . .

On a calm day the sea stretches on forever

Fields of ripe wheat float in the heat

Then dream onwards even through the night:

There is no end to the waking path I tread

Facing forwards or backwards the vista is new

                                    *

The Lonely Poet . . . in a World of Books . . .

                                         The Lonely Poet

The breeze that lifts my autumn leaf

That bends this silent flower stem

Tears from my midst the finished page

That cannot see what it shall be

But joined with life’s own rifling wind

Will write within the heart it rends

                        

                          *

In a World Books

From a lighted centre a beam goes forth:

A line in amethyst shooting depths of sight;   

Through a world of books it travels,

Finding stories in the river of life --- 

Thought open: the light beyond fills it

And a flow of angel’s tears are in me, pearled --- 

Falling softly in streams of insight burning bright

            

             

Beloved Lover

Beloved lover, lover of all of me

In the fold of your cradling wings

You hold me to you closely bound

Slain, joined as air with air I am
And there...forever...

And ever...
One out of two, one flesh in my beloved

Not the experience of the many but the few 

None follow where flesh has never gone before

None cared to take up the thread least ravelled
Nothing there...

They are gone without leaving a trace

Coalmine Black

Clothed she is in coalmine black

The son has looked upon her

Those people not her people hate her:

From the reflection of their inner face they flee

They dig and delve, they seek and search

But all the time there in their looking-glass book

           

Garnered she is in pillars of smoke

Perfumed with myrrh and frankincense

From the clefts of the rock the voice of the dove

But being paved with pain they couldn’t bear it and fled

They dig and delve, they seek and search

Yet all the time there in their looking-glass book

                         

Immersed she is in the songs of birds

In the secret places of the stairs she lives

With all flowers of the appearing the flight of the dove

But being lined with pain they couldn’t bear it and fled . . .

Ever learning they never learn: ever seeking they never find

Yet it is all the time there, in their seeing of their inner face

Farlight Sightings

Where will I find it

From whence does it flow

When will the essence of it strike my soul?

Wasted my months not in pursuit of its fold  

Then was I drab-caught buried in busyness

Called out and dragged in, in pathways of systems

Parsley and thyme all ribbings of salt ice

My poached life seasoned with deathly coldness

The call of the silver sea brought my heart out to find it

When flickers of beacon fires raise my horizon

I see and I know, and I am where it is found

Following from nothingness where simplicity’s crowned