There are too many boats in this harbour.
Too little room for floating.
It is night, the jetty lights are broken
And there are creatures with a taste for blood
Hidden somewhere in the water.
The blessings are these:
I have friends who made themselves inside the furnace.
Who life painted into art.
They are interesting pots, filled with everything still needed
For joy to stay alive.
I am visited by magpies
Who glide over me
In a swirl of feathers and memory,
Like great bird magicians,
Flourishing themselves before they vanish
In the air beyond my sight.
I have met an honourable man,
Who doesn’t bring darkness into my house,
Like so much mud,
On the bottom of his shoes.
We remain two separate violins,
Carved from the gift of different trees
But there are moments when we harmonise
And my heart finds a note,
As sweet and strange as sherbet,
It has never sung before.
I have learnt my own secrets.
The language I speak, of instincts and dreams,
In the only world that is mine alone,
Where silence is sacred
And kindness is a King with a paper crown.
I know the covers I hide under and I know the ways I rise.
I am in possession of hopes, like a fistful of rubies.
I believe that somewhere there are dancing shoes
That will belong to me,
And steps I’ve yet to take
In perfect time.
This is only one day.
It does not speak for all the others,
(Don’t let it tell you different).
And as days do, it throws my life,
like a coin into the air.
Whichever way it lands,
For better or for worse,
It remains the silver penny I was given,
When I began.