Outer Hebrides: Relenting (first draft)

Not yet happy with this one so bear with me

The kayak moves in rhythm with the waves
We are far out of the bay
As we paused to sort the fishing lines
The swell became stronger
Pushing us out even further

I do not like this
I do not like relenting control of my kayak

Letting go

However, control is an illusion
The water pushes me on steadily
I can steer a little
Keep direction
But when a rogue wave hits
I have to let go
I have to relent
Otherwise the kayak topples over

We can but put some safe-guards in place
Life jackets, wet suits, throw ropes
Emergency whistle, knife
But life has its own mind
And often our direction changes
Without much choice
So there is nothing left
But to let the water carry you
Where ever it seems fit

Outer Hebrides: Empty

Wide skies
Wide horizons

An eagle hovers
Empty your mind let your thoughts move through

Normally I struggle
But
Here
I can’t hold on
To a thought
To a worry
To a contemplation

Clouds move over
Every changing
Like my relentless thoughts usually do

Occasionally the clouds become stuck
Hovering over the valley between the mountains
Like the thoughts I should let go
Eventually the wind moves them on

Summertime

And the livin’ ain’t easy

Summertime
And you make me queezy

Summertime
And you are miserable

Summertime
And your soul is in the darkest winter

Summertime
And I let go
Your winter is not my cold to fight
Your darkness is not mine to carry

Your hate is a reflection from your mirror
Your bile is oozing back into your soul
The hurt you cause comes back to you sevenfold

I release you
I release you from me
I release me from you

I release you from your pain
I release you from the fog
I release you from your self-imposed shackles
I release you from your hate
I release you from your revenge
I release you from your perpetrator
I release you from your victimhood
I release you back into the wild

Geh mit Gott aber geh

Hold

Hold my coffee and watch me!
Hold onto life as if you could.
Hold out for better things
Hold me tight!
Hold on for the ride.
Don’t hold your breath.

What else have you been told to hold?
How much do you unwittingly carry?
How often have you waited in vain?
How much have you relied on others to carry you?
Are you enjoying the ride; or are you too concerned?
Are you still not breathing properly?

Let air into your lungs.
Raise your chest.
Make a noise as the flow enters your nose.
Make a huff as you release.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Take in.
Let go.
In flow.

Living in Limbo

Akin to stretching after exercise
Limbo is space to move
Everything into the right place
To flex and bend

Such stretching affords
Living in Limbo
To the soul and the mind
That the soul flexes
The mind bends
The heart soars

Limbo is space to ponder
If all parts of mind, soul, and heart
Are aligned with life shaping around you

Limbo
Is space to listen to your own song
Invent new notes
Be fluid
Breathe in
Breathe out
Just be

And as you flow
You might
Just might
Bump into other hearts, and minds, and souls
In limbo

7 a.m. and no Gargoyles

A thick haze slowly eats the city; drowning it in milky pudding.
There is a bright spot; I must assume the sun.
Grey silhouettes slowly emerge from the haze.
Anonymous giants, only known to those close by.

Don’t fight windmills; you won’t win.
I up the resistance running up a grass covered hill.
I run into battle or follow my prey, hunting.
Archaic DNA scripts fall into place, always fight never flight.

I can’t see the horizon; even though I am high up in the building on the hill.
What I thought a gargoyle, turned into a crow watching the morning crowd through glass walls.
‘No gargoyles in the mist’, I think feeling sad.
‘Here I go again on my own’, Whitesnakes shout in my ears.

The giants ahead are probably just houses.
There is no magic, as the guy next to me huffs loudly.
I up the resistance a bit more.
Let it go girl, just let it go! I know well how to ‘fight for’, not so well how to ‘let go off’. But I’m learning.

The milky pudding spits out the giants; I can’t see beanstalks either.
Annoyed I make my way downstairs.
There is hardly anything more real than cold steel across my shoulders.
I want to raise my hands above my head and call thunder and lightning.

But the steel will do; there is magic in the strength of my bones.
Suddenly sun-rays burst into the room.

‘The book of love is long and boring
No one can lift the damn thing’.
But I am becoming stronger.

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