L E O N I E . W I S E

the carpet is growing weeds again and
crocus blooms keeping thrusting themselves
up through the charcoal flecks
adding patterns of joyous colour.
it’s kind of annoying though,
i have to watch my step when i get out of bed.

we have guests coming on friday. i’m going
to have to put a sign up outside the front door
“beware the plants” or something like that.
and at this rate, i’ll be able to set up a stall
outside our flat, with an honesty box -
flowers for sale: 50p a bunch.
come back tomorrow, there’ll be more!

i’m half expecting to arrive home today
to find my husband clasped in the arms
of an affectionate nasturtium, or
wedged beneath the rowan bush.
i’ve no idea if the neighbours are having issues
they always take pains to avoid us.
have i got twigs in my hair again?

it’s not about being published;
though that does bring some degree of satisfaction,
feathering my ego’s nest with soft white down.

it’s not a desire to be noticed;
all this visibility often makes me want to hide, sneak away
and pretend it’s someone else that does this.

it’s not about what you think of it,
though i’m glad if it speaks to you, or if you recognise
some of your life in the words.

it is about the overwhelming urge to write, write, write
thoughts scamper about, teasing my pen, mocking my hand
for not being able to keep up.

it’s about the feeling of expressing in short form
a feeling, a snapshot,
a life being lived outside of the page.

© 2010. leonie wise

“i want to write about faith”
i hear
your
earnest words
repeatedly
in my mind…
burrowing
into the hardened
parts of me -
reminding me
of an urgent
conversation
we are destined
to have,
as soon
as i stop
and
allow
it to happen.

this day
is
my heart:
beating
in time
with yours;
where faith
washes over me,
like
sparkling
winter sunshine
glistens
on the wet grass.

this faith
is
my faith:
the bellbirds call
as dawn breaks;
the ocean waves
crashing
endlessly
upon the shoreline,
these hands
folded
in prayer.

this faith
is
my faith:
unspoken words;
wisdom
of the ages
living
through me,
ribbons
of light
caressing
the darkness.

this life
is
my faith:
a place
without walls;
with
deep grooves
of
kindness
and welcoming
spaces
beckoning me
from
beyond
the threshold.

© 2009 leonie faith wise

between the folds

she bravely scrapes dust from her hard outer shell,
showing celadon layers of softness and grace,
between comforting folds live both laughter & sorrow,
bonded together as inseparable friends.
she’s come a long way to be here in this moment,
and her journey’s a long way from reaching it’s end…
the friendships she gathers down wandering pathways
add shine to this garment she wears of her life.
she is learning that stillness is as essential as action;
that silence belongs here as much as the words,
every death to the old speaks a new YES to life,
fuels the fires of desire for living her truth.
deep in the folds, there’s a wellspring, a knowing, and
she’s learning to let go, and trust in the process -
deep in the folds is where healing commences,
her own sacred medicine the best balm for her soul.

© 2009 leonie faith wise

(inspired by my life, this community , and these words)

{ for darlene’s december views }

walk 2 blocks that way and you arrive at the tate modern. the view from work, london.
candon 400d, 12-22mm wide-angle lens

your gold is not the same as her gold, or his,
your tongue craves sweet, when they want sour;
these words aren’t yours, you have your own
which deserve to be recognised as being your truth.

these eyes smiling at you, a mirror reflecting
the kindness thats there within your own;
your bones, your limbs, your hands, your heart
are here for the world demands it so.

© 2009 leonie faith wise

{ for darlene’s december views }

baubles. canon 400d

without context

some days it seems many
lifetimes have passed since
you held firm to my hand
whispering secrets in my ear.
days flow by, like sands

constantly shifting,
shaping new landscapes;
our sweet times together glide
quietly out of memory’s reach.

something tilts… floats…
drifts just beyond my gaze,
leaving a cooling hollow
waiting to be filled with
another warmth, or
another’s touch. please

lets revive our friendship? come,
take a step back towards me
and discard that old mask;
remember how it feels to have
my sun warming your face.

© 2009 leonie faith wise

{ for darlene’s december views }