Walking

May you walk into your future
with a flower by your side.

May you step on stones of life
with joy within your shoes.

As a heron stands in the rushing river
may you weave your web with care

Between branches of your tale,
there is mystery round your corner

in the maze that is to come.
As you taste fragrance from the breeze,

may the wisdom in your heart
breathe beyond your deep blue sky

There are stones



There are stones
in a rushwork basket
by the fireplace
in my living-room
on Whitehill.
Stones
gathered
from the side
of a sea
where
they were subject
to tides.
Now
they lie
dried
together
on top
of each other,
crushing