Stardom

I carry my silence with me
           it’s a place in which trees
and plants and the whole
           of nature exist without words
the pure being unqualified
           by thought or even feeling

in this place there is love
           that demands no expression
love as the air moves
           through my lungs
love as the blood courses
           through my veins
love that resolves
           the mystery of the universe
so that I no longer ask
           why stars ?
we – you and I – are the light
           that illuminates
the darkness
           we are warmth

I cannot see everywhere
           that I am
I can only be
           as I am

John Lyons

City by the lake

We live by water
blue skies
and in our parks
the browns
and greens of nature

We are made
of sky and water
and earth
fire keeps us
alive

John Lyons

To the rising sun

What I’m wondering
           on this lovely morning
is the purpose of it all
           my breath
my beating heart
           a neighbour’s dog
barking
           magpies
dressed like Napoleon
           believing that they
can conquer the world
           and I’m playing with words
looking forward
           to my next move
and the moon is there
           a reminder
that what goes around
           comes around
the sun has risen
           from the dead of night
and I am in love
           and that’s the truth

John Lyons

The colour of love

Colours
           that rise
within me
           that burn
with passion
           that consume me
that fire me up
           that spur me on
to express
           what is
within me
           a cloud
of feelings
           a constant
effervescence
           of colours
that coalesce
           into shapes
and gestures
           that are
a subscript
           for love

John Lyons

Early morning musing

Beautiful mottled January sky
           light illuminating
shreds of grey cloud
           birds engaged
in aimless enjoyment
           the to and fro of their lives

the year is on the turn
           there may be better days to come
but this is one of the best so far
           and it feels good
to be alive
           to know that there is love
in the world
           and to be a part of it

John Lyons

Before before

To think
           that there was
a time
           when the world
was a blank canvas
           before there was
language
           before there was
art
           before there was
music
           before there was
dance

Creation
           is rooted
in time
           love too

John Lyons

Homage to Ed Clark

Deep into autumn
           many trees stripped bare
or gone to gold and rust
           a sparrow returns
to a familiar bush
           only to discover
that all the berries
           have been eaten

there’s a beautiful
           light grey sky up above
Ed Clark could’ve painted it
           and for some reason
or no reason at all
           I think of a piebald horse
I once saw grazing
           in a field in retirement

today the earth
           is spinning slowly
time is dragging its heels
           I should get a move on
head out into
           the big wide world
and prepare to fight
           the good fight
but then I think ok
           what’s the rush
the future can wait
           just a little longer

John Lyons

A little light on love

Physics tells us so much
           about our bodies
that they are formed
           from restless energies
that movement
           is fundamental
to every aspect
           of the universe
that our souls
           were forged
in the very origins
           of time

that expansion
           versus contraction
is the developmental
           paradox of the whole
of creation
           down to the pulsating
chambers of our hearts
           and that gravity
is an expression of love
           drawing one person
irresistibly
           close to another

John Lyons

Particles of being

When was it
              Wallace asks
that the particles became
              the whole man ?

Whose hand shaped the clay
              into what became
the Grecian urn ?
               Clay working upon clay
Whose hand hardened it
              in the fire
so that it would be there
              for all time ?

A breathing human passion 
               The energy to create
and so direct those energies
              to a precise purpose
earth to earthenware
              clay to Keats
poet to poetry
              truth to beauty

John Lyons

John Lyons