Know you are utterly, perfect

Are you a slave to routine?

Or a slave to your mind?

Or a slave to the fears

That now riddle mankind?


Those invisible shackles

Are locked only by thought

Fictitious, limiting beliefs

Of which many are taught


Surrender takes courage

A lengthening of stride

A desire to be better

To encompass, not divide


Are you only counting days

Of a life, to get through?

Anxiety pandemic

Acquiring more, a virtue


Wake up from your sleep!

Seize the present; it’s a gift

Know you are utterly, perfect

Then start to heal your own rift


Pockets of sunshine

Hands pushed deep

Into the rain mac of Spring

Small pockets of sunshine

Thaw cold, tired hands

Within soft, familiar linings


Spare warm change

Loose, amongst used tissues

Crumpled with old receipts

Of promises and dreams

Now out of date


A spare key to your heart

Familiar by touch

Returned, unwanted

A reminder of what was

The locks now changed


Bits of fluff from the past

Cling like velcro

To an old chocolate wrapper

Sticky from saccharin promises

Of empty, sweet fulfilment