Leanne Margaret

Tight and slow with winter chill We were received into creation. Music strummed our lighted limbs. We were Venus and Mars. Earth centered our whirl and we warmed. Our hearts opened into ‘yes.’ Empty as space and full as eggs, Spinning chakras of a dance studio. Crying at the voice of the ‘call of the soul,’ Joyously answered. Creatures of earth en-souled. We remembered the big bang Back when we were stars, Sneezing planets into being. Orbits force spiraled energy, Like old dusters we spun away the junk, Opening our minds to catch the fractal light. He channeled stars and I could hear. Mercury spoke where language faltered. We became ourselves again, as light. Some were sick and wild with homecoming, Others danced their lifetimes of spinning. Spinning tops, laughing, falling, followed - A comets tail arced the room. White lights whirled above and below, Spinning colours of red, blue and violet, Scent of flowers, bread and even f

I must be a horse. Slim limbs twitch hyperactive, Spacious eyes on every gate. Irritation ripples them easily, They pound the ground, away. Dangerous when hostile; Willful beasts, prone to kicking and Snorting their temper all chunky veined. Mouthy and Hyper-responsive. Uncontrollable, unless broken. Easily damaged, they abhor force. Mild as doves, then bold they run To find remembered spacious fields Away from the herd. I am a horse. Leanne Margaret copyright  2015

Her armrest rumbled loose, His maroon pride: “This is how a real engine sounds.” Leather, dusty as an old man’s couch, My eyes tighten against wheezy vents. Second gear jabs my ears, Skull shuddering Throb of oxygen, Ribcage resists. Teeth set stiff as a Cheshire cat, Laughing at his trophy: “My brain hurts, Where’s the window button?” Air’s escape relieves some. When her muffler grates He ‘hi-fives’ his mates! Vintage Prestige Vehicles Are still old cars. Leanne Margaret © 2015

Crashing down from predators flight Inky tipped thorn on mountain bright Covetous of shield of knight To sever lashings grip of fright. The desert set the winter free From summer's fig, to 'Hecate tree' She dropped her leaves, revealed the bones Her howling, petrified summer's rose. Stripped, the branch revealed its source Trailing, rising, jutting, force Twisting, ever toward the light Even through soul's long dark night. Seasons flowed in streams of change De-slodging ancient mountain rains Pinecones calling thought to form Turning till the stories formed. Time's mirrored space collected Dreamtime forests there reflected Unknowable as spirit veiled Spirit eyes saw time spun tales. By such crossing roads were razed Times multi-headed serpent staged Mirrored there an older face Put to death and raised. So it turns in perfect form Summer's leaf will colour all Winter's dreams will-lit with bright Forging clear a sword of f

Frozen, timeless still World swirls distant Bones, resting, now Patience opens serenity Resist not, apathy Winter seeds rest. Rest Rest seeds winter Apathy, not resist Serenity opens patience Now resting bones Distant swirls world Still, timeless, frozen. Leanne Margaret copyright 2011

I Am you You are me Matrix weaves of we The mirror of world seen Projections eyes of sweet and mean Blinding knots unravel and release their steam Veils lift away between the worlds that be Fully revealed picture of our plans that held form Refining the edges, shaping empty spaces for a you-in-verse formed. Leanne Margaret copyright 2013