Being Here
It’s ghia here in Kelter
There’s nothing to filter
the water is lovely
It’s clear that here
is wild and pure
And Nobody owns her
No need to protect her
We all learn to love her
You’ll find your kilter
When you come to Kelter
You won't ever leave her
cos she'll always be with you
The Ocean
Throws up a stone,
Flattish, nearly round,
Found by a child,
Who feels it,
The rasping nick,
It's nearly a heart.
Salt water laps at their feet,
Hungry for the stone back,
It's incomplete
The child skims the stone,
It bounces along
Waves trying to catch it
Hearing their name called,
Child,
Looks back to the land,
Each wave draws the stones back,
The sand slows our child's progress
towards the sound,
Loving each step,
The depth of the course, grey sand
pulls down like quicksand,
A lovely sinking feeling
Lulling
The little sojourner performs a strange
slow dance
when laughter from the voice
beckons
Come on you,
It's time,
Race you back
You must be specific with wishes.
A genie has already spent one hour paying close attention to the details of a special teddy bear whose fur must be a certain shade of pink, whose smell be a specific kind of sweet and whose voice be an absolute replica of a deeply loved one.
The child, though only six years old, knows not to ask for the loved one to be returned in full, having fully understood the concept of death because of experiencing it first hand.
People cannot be wished back to life. That's something fully understood by the child who has prayed and wished for this over and over again and been held in her despair by others who dearly love her but not, perhaps as dearly as the one the child has wished for.
The child who knows what happens in life when a dearly loved one dies, loses hope but gains experience and understanding which goes very deep into their soul.
When the genie has granted the child's three wishes, the colour, the smell, the voice, the teddy bear itself is the gift from the genie, encompassing the three wishes, after which, the genie has little time or patience to listen to the wishy washy vaguely articulated wonts of the ones who come begging after.
It'll wear off, or at least fade no doubt. Genies have a job to do. Genie will return to work and pay more attention, but perhaps with a little diminished enthusiasm. Which is totally understandable.
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Being Here It’s ghia here in Kelter There’s nothing to filter the water is lovely It’s clear that here is wild and pure And Nobody owns h...