Centre of the Earth

I ran into the forest. The wind plays with the trees, tickling the leaves into falling. My feet squelch into the soft, wet mud as I run. In and out my foot goes, breathing into the earth. I can see the tree roots lingering just above the surface, probing.

I begin to dig. I’m digging until I get to China.

The deeper the hole is the more the roots groan out to the open air, missing the comfort and solace of the dense, compact earth, the damp coolness of the soil. The wind finds itself bouncing off all corners of this hole, looking for new friends to play with. The roots groan and retreat further back to other parts of the soil. I dig deeper and deeper until I reach the inner core of the earth.

There he is.

He sits on a plain, wooden stool staring into the centre. A looking glass of pure magma.

“You’re finally here”. He doesn’t bother to swivel around. He knows who I am.

“I’m trying to get to China”.

“You’re about half way there”.

“Oh? I suppose this is the centre of the earth”.

“Would you care to sit?” Another wooden stool materialises out of thin air beside him. He didn’t need to wait to hear my response. I sit beside the careworn old man.

“Look at this my son, before you continue your journey”.

I stared intently into the looking glass. Images began to appear. Simultaneously the past, present and future are all played out at once before me. The whole world and multiple others. People of many races and many species busy in their minds, in their lives. In under a minute I was exhausted, as if years had been torn off me.

“Have you had enough?”

“Yes, sir”.

“Be on your way, know that I am always looking out for you, son. Always” He said without looking at me. I felt it his hand on my shoulder.

I continued the dig. As I emerged the wind was nowhere to be found. The trees were quiet. I walked out of the forest in search of people.

Realm of the Dead

I found myself suddenly on a bridge. I stood there for just a moment. Taking in the atmosphere. I was standing on a bridge in the middle of a lake. The air tastes like early morning. I couldn’t see the end of the bridge, both ends were shrouded in fog. As I looked out to the lake I could see some large ripples appearing, moving fast towards me.

As the ripples came closer I could make out a large, shapely body beneath the water. The creature beneath the water suddenly launched its large body unto the rails, balancing precariously with its huge weight. It looked at me thoughtfully for one moment, came to a decision, then hopped onto the pavement right in front of me, shaking the bridge slightly.

“Tell me about yourself.” The creature bubbled, its flippers motioning as he spoke.

“I’m not sure there’s much to tell.”

“Nonsense” Its words gargled, forming foam from its mouth that slipped off its giant tusks.

“Am I dead.”

“Yes you are. Soon your heart will be weighed and judged.”

“Who are you then?”

“I guide the dead.” The huge creature posed it’s body upwards, stretching out its flippers.

“Why are you a walrus?”

“I don’t know. Why are you a human?”

“That’s actually a good point.”

“There you go.”

 

We watched the lake together. Time stood still. Does time even flow in a place like this? I heard a gargling of water come from the walrus as he began to speak again.

“So, who are you then?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Music Everywhere

The falling of raindrops

Causes the piano notes to play

When I’m outside in the forests

And it’s raining

It’s the most beautiful sound

You could ever imagine

Slapton Sands

Hand on the throttle

Mind racing the road

The corners twist and bend

Running right through

The crevices of my brain

Entwining themselves within its muscle

The sand whips up a storm

On the beach I sit at

While the waves come creeping in

Teasing to reach my boots

A lone man walks to the end of the beach

In search of his thoughts

While I count every grain of sand

In my palm

Looking for God

The Crows

I stand atop a field

Looking down on moving waves of grass

Where the crows fly above singing

Their keen eyes and ears

Bringing sight and sound to another world

Where my father watches me

 

Nature to Machine

Sweet night

Comforting fog that looms

The church bells ring

Echoing, rolling through

These great green hills

The animals lie asleep

Attuned to mans rythmn

The path I walk

Is lit by silver moonlight

Songs played

From the violins of crickets

Soon my path will end

I will find myself

In a new kind of light

Force of Nature

Blessed is he with the sun baring down

On his boiled back

The sweat clinging so tightly to his skin

So that he does not forget

His fleshy prison

Up, down

Down, Up

The scythe attacks the grassy beds

Where grasshoppers still sleep

In their woven homes

 

In the night

They cry to the moon

At the loss of stability

The humans delight in their songs

Meadfoot Beach

I sit here tonight

By the pouring rain

My engine’s still purring gently

Its light playing with the dark

While I look out from Meadfoot beach

To the great black sea before me

Painted white specks dance over the waves

The moon is on the stage with her starry audience

While I sit here on the edge

Waiting for shooting stars to come by

To make just one more wish

 

 

Grains of Sand

The sea laps around

Melting the rock I sit on

Watching the horizon

Greedily swallow up the sun

The sand forms outlines of stories below

Each grain a life on earth

This one’s from the shores of Peru

Picked up by a tribesmen

Wondering what to do

And where to go

The land is barren

And his heart too

This one, the shores of Hokkaido

Picked up by a farming man

Who resided in the state of Japan

He picked up the sand

And wondered about the future

Of his plot of land

His family

Melting to the sand

Those grains of sand

picked up by my own hand

I let fall to the sea

From my palm

Where the sand returns

To now known lands

 

 

 

White Cliffs of Dover

The sea calls me

To the East

Where I look over

The white cliffs of Dover