Diamond heart

Broken and shattered - this is how my diamond heart that clings to the rock, wants to be kept secret but wants also to shine - shine as through a rainbow - you my rainbow - the sky hung glory over my sordid story - glows with the other wold. Grows with the hunger in my soul to really tell you my story, really hold the glory in a light frame - no sides - bursting colour in all directions - going straight to the ground through the core on this Saturday morn. The dog walkers walk, the dogs on chains as ours loosed get lost in the dunes while we sip tea and listen to poetry in front of the great isle - Kāpiti, who are you? What stories do you hold that have long been told? Sold to the highest bidder - once a sheep farm after a whale factory - so much industry and now it lays dead and buried - the river has once again filled her beds with rock and alluvial soil from the headlands - some locals want her dredged again so their properties can get insurance - but the river is healthy - the estuary is alive and you and I love seeing their glory - the squadrons of Canadian geese sounding their horns early in the morning and late in the sunset. This becoming of wild - of things overgrowing the machine that lies dead and rusting - this is the light human touch but only a part of our destruction - in the end all things demise and we can only glory in the wonder of how seasons pass and pass and grow and die while I look you in the eye - and the face of your glory has let me in again - love of loves - the marriage story the tears of glory so that you can really love the love that was here to being with - fall through into the utter nothing - and find the dark together - from this prism place love extends in all directions - the boat is sailing and the fairy folk have left for eternity. We remain in the world of man and human - we remain chomping at the bit to realise our utter potential in this brief life - losing all to find the one field - sell all we have to find the pearl of great price. I know that I’ve come to the end of my old self - starting to pull down the shutters in preparation for a storm, or a rebirth, or both. who knows.