The Way of Tao



The Tao is a way like many

Go steady and pay attention

The Tao is always ready

It wants to help the enemy

It wants to give bread and water

It is the soul that cares for poverty

Every Spirit suffering conflict.


The Tao is the kindness of man

The way of many

Preached by revelation of Trinity

Here to stay

No more enmity

No more victory

But awareness of Spirituality

Wisdom of goodness

Practiced, occupied, patiently

Understood by the eyes and ears

Hearts and minds

Bodies and Souls

Of an interconnected Globe

Universal and Old.

Reflections on Christ

Three poems to celebrate his living and loving grace:



We are all part of His one Body;

Christ, and the Father Godhead. This is the

Bread of Life; the energy of all things.

Created once, broken, and shared for

all Eternity. It is the force that

sustains us; the gift of life; God’s gift to us. 



He is the sweetest touch of my life;

He is the most graceful presence

I have ever felt or knelt beside,

I have ever judged or loved,

That I can ever hope to experience;

He is the love of my life.



The Spirit blows up on high

Beyond those church wardens

Heart so vast and open as the sky

Where in steady breathe it returns

Whence came grace and our cries

Homebound, into the land of Zion

At the foot, there was the Cross

Of Christ crucified. 



Poem on a Reflection of Beauty

The morning light was dark and my soul shivered when I woke. I spent the day reckoning with my own absence from life. I said not even a prayer.

Reaching out into the night smog, I sensed the terror of more rain and fog. The feelings of sheer agony and fear. But do not fear, I tell myself, as Beauty is always close to here:

Whereupon the senses can be set on fire, and tears wept, before I cry out with a new sense of Joy.


I tell of her naturalness;

Of the feeling gifted to her breasts,

Of the charming smile that dawns in the night, 

Of the morning tide, and her sweet neck,

A charming scent.


I tell of her elegance;

Of the fearlessness devoted to being,

Of the genius that wakes in her personality,

Of the physicality, and her countenance, 

A rhythmic beauty. 


I tell of her musicality;

Like a rainbow she spoke, excitably,

The many colours of the day in harmony,

Like a ray of sunshine, parting rain and cloud, 

A pasture sublime. 


I tell of her language;

Like the sound of robins, springtime,

The animals whisper and sweetly graze,

Like a child who sings lullabies,       

A tender voice.