On Friday mornings
       I visit the willows
in the park
       They’ve been a presence
in my life for as long
       as I can remember
that is to say
       I’ve known them longer
than most of the people
       that I now know

Love has come and gone
       and come and gone again
but the willows remain
       A small stream runs
through the park
       and often as a child
I would stand
       on the narrow bridge
and watch the water flow
       over the gentle weir
and sometimes
       with a glass jar in hand
I would fish for tadpoles
       and proudly carry them home

And sometimes now I think
       of all the different bridges
I’ve crossed in my life and
       all the rivers I’ve gazed into
sometimes accompanied
       sometimes alone
and I remember so much
       and regret nothing

John Lyons

Leaves falling
through the air
through time
through space
through all the years
of my life since
my time began

while new buds
are forming
in time and in space
preparing to take
their place
and so it goes
and so it goes

John Lyons

Not enough leaves to kick
       but soon they will come
tumbling down and the wind
       will gather them into piles
where dust will accumulate
       as they dry out and children
on their way home from school
       will wade into these piles
and toss the leaves up into the air
       laughing and skipping as they go

and I will remember that hill
       I descended all those years ago
a young boy full of the excitement
      of learning and of life and friendship
an early admirer of the world’s natural
       beauty and intrinsic simplicity

John Lyons

How can there be darkness
in a universe made of light

how can extreme cold exist
in this cauldron of fire –

and unkindness and a lack
of love in a world where

sparrows and foxes come
and go with no agenda

other than to live to the full
where trees blossom

and bear fruit where
every living creature

has its hour of glory
and greed and envy

and anger and deceit
are quite unknown

John Lyons

Beauty is not fragile
it’s what persists
despite adversity
despite pain and loss

for example the rose
that returns season
after season its dignity
unabashed by icy storms

and as one year’s petals
wither and die new buds
are forming deep within
awaiting their moment

or the beauty of oaks
centuries old bastions
of ancient woodlands
and wide open meadows

custodians of time
and of the earth
and the eternal cycle
of life and death

John Lyons

Acres of wild seagrass
       beneath turquoise waters
skirting the rugged shore
       and we are mineral beings
living literally off the fat
       of the land and the sea

we who are organically
       water and calcium and iron
and carbon and phosphorus
       and oxygen and nitrogen
and biochemically
       so much more – driven
by edible energies to love
       and be loved

John Lyons

Everything is there
       in the poems
and in the paintings
       and in the small
wooden sculptures
       and in my silence

I have nothing more
       to say on the subject
no clever definitions
       no neat explanations

I am fascinated by
       the stealthy growth of trees
and by the secret destinations
       of swallows and angels
I prefer to be in love
       rather than not
but sorry to say I have
       nothing else to add

John Lyons