Thursday 23 June 2011

The Fire Fly

The fire fly

Firefly with your yellow light,
Help me find my way tonight,
Journeying through the bad land,
Taking you to hold my hand.
Fairy princess in flying form,
You find the daytime far too warm,
So you come awake at dark,
To frolic, fly and lark.





The fire fly


 Long, long ago in a far away place called Japan there lived a tiny baby firefly. She was small, and short and a boring brown all over. Her Mum and Dad thought she was the most beautiful firefly that they had ever seen. They called her Esme. When Esme was old enough to go to school they would let her fly with her other firefly friends. Esme loved to fly. She would swoop and whoop and speed off and do loop the loops around all her friends. Esme was always happy and always laughing.


One day on her way to school she saw some bright, beautiful butterflies that had the same stripes as tigers. She stopped herself in mid-flight halfway through a swirling loop and watched. The butterflies were tall and had thin stretched wings. The pattern on them was so detailed that Esme thought she’d have to look at it for 100 years just to see everything.


When Esme got home from school that day she wasn’t happy and she wasn’t laughing.
“What is wrong?” Asked Mummy Firefly.
“I’m not beautiful.” Esme said sadly.
“You are the most beautiful firefly.” Mummy Firefly said.
“But I’m not as beautiful as a butterfly.”
“Butterflies are different. You are just as beautiful.”
“No. I am only small and short and I’m all boring brown.”
“But you are always happy and always laughing and I think brown is beautiful too.” Sniffed Mummy Firefly because she was all brown too.
“Anyway you just wait and see. Sometimes beauty is inside us.” Esme didn’t know what that meant but she thought that she didn’t want to be sad and jealous any more so she went into the garden and practised her biggest loop the loop until she felt happier.


Esme didn’t have time to think about the butterflies after that. It was a busy time at school because it was nearly Mid-Summer. Mid-summer is the most important holiday in the whole year for fireflies. It always happens on June 21st because that is the day with the most sunshine. Esme had to learn all about Mid-Summer and make cards and decorations for the special day.


On mid-summer’s day Esme’s whole family got together at her house. They had a lot of delicious food to eat like leaves from all sorts of trees and tiny little flowers which were sweet and all different colours. They played games and Esme had a lot of fun playing chase in the sky with her cousins. But the real excitement came in the evening. At eight pm when the sun had properly gone down Esme and her family went to the river.
At the river she saw all her friends from school with their families. They were all very excited because this was the first year they had been old enough to stay up late and join in with the big party at the river. Mummy firefly gave Esme a special white flower to try-it tasted like the most scrummy thing Esme had ever tried. It made her feel so warm and happy inside that she swooped up as high into the sky as she could with her eyes tightly closed against the rushing air.


When Esme opened her eyes she was high above everyone. She blinked because strange bright lights had appeared in her eyes. But no, when she looked again she could see still see them. She darted down a little and sure enough the air above the river was full of lots of tiny magic lights. She flew gently closer and saw that all the lights were fireflies. She zoomed right down to the river and looked inside trying to understand but all she could see was her own brown face, she looked closer her body wasn’t brown anymore. She was a bright, white and green colour. Her body shone like a star and she was beautiful.


Mummy firefly flew next to her she was the same fairy colour as Esme.
“I told you you were beautiful.” Mummy firefly said. Esme just nodded and then all the happiness in the world was inside her so she flew above Mummy firefly and looped the biggest loop the loop you’ve ever seen. She looked just like a shooting star.



Thursday 9 June 2011

Folded

Folded.
Paper light.
Delicate shape,
Delicate plight.
Creases.
Deft and fine.  
Moulded into,
One girls peace sign.
Edges.
Crisply drawn,
Absolution for,
One shared black dawn.
One Crane.
Bird in flight,
Hope’s fevered wish,
In our darkest night. 

Sunday 5 June 2011

It’s the Crack in the Ceiling That We Fear:


There’s a crack that gently creeps, 
Across the ceiling while I sleep,  
Planning an ambush to eat me.
There’s nothing  I can say,
To stop the slow decay,  
Of the shelter over me.
I dream that it opens up,
Swallows me in one quick gulp,
That empty black void and me.
Nightmare’s there as my eyes glaze,
Stays with me through every day.
Must be something wrong with me.
Perhaps it’s happening for real,
Truly that’s the way it feels. 
This dark space melting onto me.

If that’s true it’s done its worst.
I guess it doesn’t really hurt.

Wednesday 1 June 2011

A Coffee in Japan

The view from a traditional coffee shop in the mountains in Japan. It was a traditional place of meeting and making friendships. 

Mountainside.
Only still and peace.
Running brook.
Stirring trees.
I can smell the hundred year old wood used to build.
This meeting place.
A monkey saunters by.
Bigger than he expected.
Stirring soul.
Trying to make sense of what he sees.
Silence from us.
Sensual overload.
Can there be this many greens?
The smooth path of fingers over coffee cups
No uniform shape or colour
Just ritualised elegance.
Not just a coffee.
Not just a tea.
Stirring history.