Or should I say it makes it feel more like home.

Or should I say it makes it feel more like home.

Close your eyes

Finger the keyboard

Caress it with gentle strokes

Barely conscious of movement

Even as the sun climbs

It will bring out the colours

In the garden

Sharpening the detail

Highlighting every breaking wave

A Mackerel sea

Shimmering beneath the celestial

It is what you do,

Pretend you are connected

Every fibre attuned

To the vibrations

Of the universe

When the truth is

More self-evident

You are no dissident

Nothing can be further

From the truth

There is no fire

It was extinguished

For lack of kindling

Many years ago

How much longer

Can this last?

Turning avoidance

Into an art form

Painting pretty pictures

Brim full of life

With your eyes closed

What is it you see

In the darkness

To inspire such repetition

Every visit serves to fuel

The hunger

Rather than satisfy the need

Bring it to an end

With eyes closed

Or be misunderstood

Turn away

Open wide

It is a time to look anew

At what you might do

With all the beauty

To be seen

Look again

You might see me.