Make Haste Slowly
After my piece about recovery someone reminded me of the phrase ‘make haste slowly’ that features in a poem called Haste […]
Recovery
‘We have this idea that if only I could be allowed to stop and rest then it would all be great, but our striving and way of living can cause such a disturbance in our soul and body that when we stop the momentum of those disturbing factors persists like inertia.’
The Cycles of Life and Death
Yesterday I went for a walk in the early morning wood-shining glades of Eccleshall in Sheffield. The sun-dappled Bluebells were
Walking towards Spring
Spring has, for many years been my favourite season. As the ground, barren for so long begins to warm up
Mother’s Bloom
A lovely evocation of the the stealthy approach of hope – even through a sense of shame.
Dreams
‘Ask yourself this question – before my life is rounded with a sleep what is my dream?’
Finding a Way
So I turn again to my confused Monkey in his golden year, trusting those deep currents of wisdom still below the technocratic surface and wait for the way to find me once again.
After Christmas
On this – the feast of the Epiphany, held in the West to be the end of the Christmas festivities, I drive
An Elegy to Sheffield for 2016
Unfortunately a hangover that hits those who cannot drink it the hardest.