With fluctuating self-esteem, resting can be like confectionary. Recharging is like sugar, making you warm inside, calm about the future and its plans and in the moments of meditation. Then with all rises comes crashes. You become fidgety. Conscious that people might think you've given up trying or can't do as much as you used … Continue reading ‘Rest’ (The Other Mr. Whitfield)
(Personal) We were atop Dartmoor five years ago now, in dryer if not more spectacular conditions. Not that it mattered: what was important was the rolling of round stones under our feet and the steady warmth emerging in our clasped hands. Togetherness felt effortless then. We were at the stage, then, where we could answer … Continue reading The Other Mr. Whitfield: Heal
I wanted to give up the ghost But the ghost left first. Now I'm left in transit In the portholes where I still fit. Sometimes I slip from out of the mist Into some sweet personified verse. Others I'm drifting amongst the Helm And the figurehead which I yearn.