Today my husband gave me a Cat Stevens “Best Of” CD…

Spinning me back down the years

Brining me laughter and tears

A man of great passion and peace

Setting me back on my feet.

 

I remember that ride in the spring

Trying my best not to sing

About mornings that broke and my dog

Who I loved, and of Peace Trains and fog.

 

We rode for well over an hour

With people he had on his tour

And he spoke not a word, but above all the roar

His peace could be heard, at the core.

 

We tranquilly rode through the scrub

And we heard all the birdsong above

As the silence became what it should

A feel of peace – that was good.

 

I was just a plain, awkward teen

(at the time I was only fourteen)

And here was my hero in flesh

Showing me a bright world, made afresh

 

Tiny flowers I’d not notice had bloomed

In the scrubby roadsides and festooned

The world with their charm, in that magical calm

And the air with their essence perfumed

 

I felt I had never prior seen

The world but hazily, through a dream

If silence if golden, I know

That truth, through gold silence, can grow.

I was only fourteen, but the things I had seen

More than all of his songs, could not show.

 

After his limo had left

I felt both absurd and bereft

I had wanted to say, on that beautiful day

That he taught me so much

I was blessed.

 

Cat Stevens toured Australia in September 1972 , playing  at Apollo Stadium in Adelaide, SA.
I was 14 at he time and my parents owned a riding school in the Adelaide Hills, so when he decided he wanted a peaceful break to go horse riding, I took him and his entourage on a ride.
He was my greatest hero at the time, but  I never spoke a word to him, and he said nothing audible during the entire visit.  It was obvious that his was a time-out for him and he radiated peace and calm in his silence.

And on and on it goes.
Ride on the peace train.

 

To integrate
in every way
in action, thought and deed,
Being your own purest, pure truth
is a perilous path indeed!

We start to die
from our truest self
in infancy as we grow
to see ourself
through other’s eyes
rated higher than
our own.

There seems to be
so very much
that needs to be unspun.
To pare back to
the delicate core
picking the complex pattern
undone.

Integrity is all in one
the same in every way.
being truly who we are
in every place
on every day.

With no pretence
but speak your truth
to everyone you see.
Take your time
to form your words
to speak
in honesty.

There’s nothing harder
you can do
than peel back the bark.
And every time
a bit comes off
you feel  little spark.

The bark is the hardest
work of all,
exposing little wounds,
that made you who you are today
but the sparks
are tiny blooms.

We compromise
our own true self
from the moment we can speak,
Intent on pleasing others
for the approval
that we seek.

It’s a stage within a cycle
As I grow older
I care less
for the opinions of the people
I grew tough bark
to impress.

(for Libby, 2015)

I’m knitting a scarf for my grandson
and thinking of him as I do
the joys and the giggles he gives me
The fun of just watching him grow

There’s yellow for sunshine and laughter
and green for all nature’s excess
red  for power, blue for calm, mauve for dreaming
and orange for heart’s happiness

Every new stitch forms a kiss
and every new row a new prayer
I’m knitting my grandson a rainbow
all knotted in loving and care.

(for Jensen, Cameron and Patrick, 2013)