Tag Archives: Illustrated poems

Guide and Bless


photo by Tony Surya

From the infinite energy of Sun and the space of emptiness we are endlessly created

Guide and bless creation, all creation, endlessly.

Created from the variegated seeds of karma Guide and bless our transient flowerings

Created with mind and senses

Guide and bless our mind and senses

Created as woman and man

Guide and bless our womanhood and manhood

Created of yearning and intuition

Guide and bless our yearnings and intuitions

Created with capacity for loving connection

Guide and bless our loving connections

Created with pain and limitation

Guide and bless our pain and limitations

Created with intelligence and power

Guide and bless our intelligence and power


Created with laughter, song and speech

Guide and bless our laughter, song and speech

Created with hope and silent knowing

Guide and bless our hope and silent knowing

Embodied in frailty and beauty

Guide and bless our frailty and beauty

Mortal and ongoing,

Guide and bless our deaths, our grievings and resurrections.


Cafe Tissardmine

Thanks to Cafe Tissardmine,

a writers retreat and artistic sanctuary in Moroccan Sahara.


Erg Cheddi

MORE photos in my Facebook album: Morocco

Twelve Day Writers Journey at Cafe Tissardmine with Jan Cornall, January 2104 

Thanks to Colleen Cassar of Roam like Queens for the connection 🙂 


In Erachidia I said


Photo by Christine Colton

Hassan, there are no women here!

Hassan replied,

It’s hot. The ladies maybe melt if they come out.

Softly spoke, his voice held pride

That ladies of his tribe

Are sensitive and worthy of protection.

Are not required to hit the street,

To meet the harsh demanding light,

like this one, melting to a new perception.


This desert is a feat of heat and wind.

People stay inside their tiny boxes on the rock

And do whatever they can find to do.

Weaving, sweeping, music, watching TV from Algeria.

So nobody will think it strange this lady,

blown in with her different skin,

is reading, writing, here behind the walls.

Cocooned and taking stock.


The sky here sings with light this dawn.

Glimpsing briefly, knowing all is well

I roll on back to sleep

to not responsible.

No action is required and life goes on.




And after travelling long hours through the dust,

I saw you jewelled sugar cube

charismatic white in this expanse of rust.

Crystalline; a fallen star

and travelled from how far

to be laid bare in this Moroccan bowl.

Delectable as hope, or trust;

so vulnerable to

just whoever fancied using you.

And  though I don’t take sugar, thank you,

had to have you, suddenly, a lust,

sweet thing.

I placed you surreptitiously,

(but secretly so urgently)

into my tea.

You softened to your destiny.

And softened me to sudden tears

to see you fall and disappear.


Written in Raja Ampat, Indonesia

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For more photos of this area, please see my Facebook Album: Indahnesia




With current rivers fluttering the mirror sea

inpouring on the tidal surge till

lapping in surrender to the white and tender sands,

I climb up on a twisted tree

to call you, distant man, and sit awhile

amid a grey green crown of graceful strands.

And grateful for this place- so less entangled

than our town- and gentled by the empathy

of waves, wish you were here.


Not for my sake. But for you, I wish

this vision of a vast and silver blue

where sky and water never parted

where light  refracts to motion

where each day ends more glorious than it started.



Tonight, above the spangled hills of Ambon,

nestled in an old man’s song of telling truth in love

there came a line, just one, in my own tongue.

I recognised it instantly, and felt a flooding

sympathy of rhythm in my blood

sting of salt tears on a tiny tide.

Oh, if there comes a time, my friend,

your resilient enduring trunk is crowned again

with green and graceful tendrils of desire,

and if you want to climb the stairs

to call someone to meet you there;

in that sweet resting place where elements combine and free

Let it be me.

Everly Brothers reunion version of Let it Be Me, sweet as the music of Ambon …