this imaginal space – draft pt.viii

there are nights when you are invisible
and imagining where you are when the sky is dark
is the beginning of all our fireside stories
while I wait in this imaginal space
I shift beyond the tangible
into realms of intuition and myth

darkness turns to light
and every time you return you affirm my trust
the endless cycle of renewal is the beginning of love

 

©clairegriffin2017

this imaginal space – draft pt.iii

not content to worship from below
we built a stair to heaven
we burnt a forest to light our path
we arrived uninvited
and thrust our clawed feet into your skin
you could have shrugged us off
but you took this as a gift
our feet tattooed your face
yet another piercing
to add to your scars

returning home
seeing it for the first time as you do
as you have seen it for millennia
we see why you love it
why you have stayed all these years
mesmerised by our blue pearl

 

©clairegriffin2017

red and green

on my doorstep
a brown cardboard box
tied with string

standing in my kitchen
I cut the string
and open the box slowly
lifting away the paper inside

and all is red and green
and smooth and curved and fresh and ripe
skin and leaves
one long green crunch of cucumber
and balls of plump red juiciness

I lift one round red globe
and the sunlight bounces off the surface
five green fingers reach out from the stem
gestures of greeting in the quiet room
I hold it close and there’s the distinctive tang of tomato
the scent of a summer garden

and so much more
I see the hands that lifted each rosy globe
felt the weight and pressed thoughtfully on the skin
the hands that snapped the ripe fruit from the vine
the hands that nestled each one into this box
arranging and rearranging for the perfect fit
I see the hands tying the string
and checking all is secure
hands that reached for me
and held me as gently
as these tender fruits

all acceptance
and generosity
the hands of a gardener
growing love

©clairegriffin2017

green

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your footsteps play
on the skin of the land
as on a drum
I feel the ground vibrate

you are coming

you will lie beneath me
and I will drop
sun-ripened fruits
into your mouth

you will stand still in my arms
as the wind blows around us
I move so slowly
this is how we dance

you will hear me singing to you
while you sleep
I speak so quietly
you can only hear me in your dreams

I am strong and grounded
the one you seek
my roots run deep
my tribe is many

you are a bright brief burst of life
and I am older than your generations
you are constantly astounded
my hair is green
and yet you love me

©clairegriffin2017

liquid love

throughout this long summer
the green world has held on
roots delving deeper
into the dry land

today it rained
slow, steady, gentle rain
falling quietly
caressing leaves
as it passed by
to the expectant earth

now in the after-rain
droplets rest on dry leaf-skin
balancing, waiting
until pores open
surface tension releases
they pool in hollows
to be absorbed

some slide to leaf-points
to hang like so many diamonds
re-engaging the botanical and elemental
liquid love in the silence

 

© Claire Griffin 2016

you find me

You find me
and I am completed.
I had not known
I was lost.
A space,
I did not know was empty,
has been filled.

It was hard to find balance …
The instant recognition,
when I saw you pass the window – I knew you.

But the present now disrupted accepted history.
Emotions surged.
Truths were challenged.
I had to reinvent my entire sense of self.

And yet I knew you –
and it was easiest thing
to be claimed by you
and to name you as mine.

I wonder sometimes
who I would be now
if I had known you sooner…

But it is enough
to know you now
and be loved.

© Claire Griffin 2016

(a poem written for my father and given to him a couple of years ago… with much love)