Purple

It is a spiritual colour he says

The colour of the Crown Chakra 

The height of your self knowledge

Enlightenment

Connection to a higher power

And that I can appreciate

But to me it is more

To me it is the colour of youth

Of freedom

Of ‘Me’dom

Of seeking and speaking your truth

It is the colour of magical skies

Of eyes, those eyes, oh those eyes!

It is the colour of my heart

That terminally conditioned part

The part that fell apart

It is the colour of pain

And a certain sort of rain

And a broken heart again

It is the colour of April snow

And I will not let it go

 


Copyright © 2018 · Forty and Everything After

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This Is Not My Pot

This week I found myself having to justify the dichotomy between what I do to feed my bank account and the things I do outside of work which feed my soul. And this was with a person who has already had to work hard to make the thing they are passionate about their job.  So they really should know better than to assume that what someone does in their day to day to make money automatically defines who they are as a human being.

But I guess we are all guilty of this on occasion. We probably all have asked a new acquaintance “So what do you do?”, and then we layer all sorts of assumptions on them as a person, based entirely on their response – when really “What matters to you?” would be a far more revealing and insightful question. If the person in question is incredibly lucky or has always had a laser-beam focus on achieving their dream career, the answers to those two questions may align. But more often than not they won’t.Read More »

Sunshine Seat

I found this poem recently that spoke to me of a particular time, a particular place and a story not yet told. A place I encountered and instantly knew was one of the ‘Thin Places’

A place that turned me into a Catherine wheel. And, though fireworks will always burn themselves out, as is their very nature, they leave their colours in your soul, to take with you when you are elsewhere, and fireworks aren’t appropriate.

And while that untold story is being formed, I leave you with a view of this sunshine seat. Your own may be anywhere, you may not have visited yet – but you’ll know it when you arrive.


SUNSHINE SEAT

On sunshine seat we find our feet
and get to feel the heat of love,
the numb warms up and the frozen leaves
for this seat wakes the sleeping buds;
it wakes them all, the big and small
the fearful and the tightly closed,
on sunshine seat we greet the heat
and open, like the thankful rose.

The clouds go by, we hear a sigh
coming from our weary hearts,
and sense a change, a flaming wave
of quite delightful charming sparks,
that turn us into catherine wheels
fizzing through the shifting hours,
on sunshine seat we’re strong, not weak
we see us as the great empowered.

On sunshine seat the word ‘defeat’
is not a word that’s ever heard,
but ‘gorgeous’ is, along with ‘bliss’
and the views go far beyond superb,
for sunshine seat sits on the cliffs
looking out at sea and sky,
and all souls leap on this old seat
for it always takes the spirit high.

~ Andrew Hobbs

 


 · Forty and Everything After 2018 · Poem by Andrew Hobbs  · Artist Unknown

 

The Gold In The Gaps

So we’ve seen some breakage
There are cracks in these jars
We have inflicted some on each other
Water seeped from those scars
We watched solemnly as it ebbed away
Fearing it may never again flow
But that water, it was stagnant
And we had to let it go

We are now filling those gaps with gold
Where would we have fitted it before?
If we hadn’t given in to those holes
We had choices to make in those chinks
We might have crumbled to dust
We almost did
But instead we chose to let the sun light through
And now we are capturing gold from the dew

Yes, there may still be drafts we cannot resolve
But that air brings with it oxygen
And we had to learn to breath again
These bowls have seen much harm
Dropped from sad and weary arms
Those shards we once watched fall
Let us take them up and gild them
And with those same arms now rebuild them

What porcelain person was ever not made more whole
When they finally acknowledge there are flaws in their bowl
They are fragile and imperfect and require careful carriage
We now witness new strength in this clay and gold marriage
As integrity returns to this broken vessel’s form
We can clear up the debris from the retreating storm
And this crazing in our glazing marks our journeys’ map
As we honour the strength of this gold in our gaps

 


Copyright © 2018 · Forty and Everything After

 

A Beautiful Déjà Vu

The man said breathe
And so I breathed
And she was next to me
And she breathed too
And suddenly there was only us there
Just the two of us
Together
Breathing

And then it came to me
We have done this before
Long ago
You and I
When we occupied one space
One body
Shared the same air
You and I

And in that moment
We are connected again
That bond that begins all else
And I feel safe and whole again
And I know, in that moment
From whom I learned how to breathe
I find it too hard to bear
That one day I must do this without you

But for now
I place my stockinged foot on yours
And we share a secret smile
And we will breathe together
Until we must find another way
To connect
Through a different medium
But for now, let us sit and let us breathe

 


Copyright © 2017 · Forty and Everything After

 

Just One Month

Give me a rainforest
Give me a boat
Give me some space
A wide-open face
Afloat, afloat

Give me a month
I don’t need a year
Just a light golden thread
A soft place for my head
And a route that’s unclear

Give me a mountain
A beach, a beach
Give me some distance
This insistent insistence
Only just out of reach

Give me a life-line
That trails out to sea
Give me a plane ride
A quick flip to the B-side
A ticket to free

Give me a rain-storm
Give me some heat
Give me one month
Only one month
Retreat
Repeat

Just one lone blank page
To write me from scratch
To explore, je t’adore
Only one month
Just this one month
I will never need more

 


Copyright © 2017 · Forty and Everything After