nose and mouth and cheeks
and chin are masked so we look
to eyes now for smiles
To be seen
Betwixt Lakeland & Edinburgh
Betwixt Lakeland & Edinburgh
nose and mouth and cheeks
and chin are masked so we look
to eyes now for smiles
wind in my wheels 🌱 
So glad your Haiku has returned.
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Thank you, dear friend. Doesn’t time fly? I hope you’re well and happy xx
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And the eyes never disappoint! So wonderful to hear your voice once more, Simon! I hope you are safe and well…💕
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Lori: thanks so much. My muse went on holidays for a day or two – which turned into a year! You know how it is. Missed opportunities though, since pre-lockdown travels have provided endless food for my soul. Perhaps my discoveries will be revealed here, little by little. Not a day goes by when I don’t think, at some stage, of you and of M (hug for M – I’m much touched by a little snippet of handwritten text at the head of KarmaTruck). I’m going to try to touch base with the windinmywheels again – and thereby, hopefully, keep in touch with beloved teachers and friends far and near. Sending love xx
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Dearest Simon, I know all too well how easy it is to slip out of the stream of time, particularly in these days of COVID lockdown where one week merges effortlessly into the next. So glad that you are safe and well and look forward to your musings. Xo
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… ‘to slip out of the stream of time …’ : isn’t that an exquisite metaphor, Lori? We slip out of the stream, but like the beach and the ocean on a sunny day, new holy-days and a ‘being IN the flow’ will surely be celebrated. The stream has tumbled onwards, wheresoever we were for a while, and we can step into it again at will … which reminds me of the poem hereunder by Ephraim Alphonse. Perhaps you already know it? Certainly you know of its intent. Love, S xx
Two Streams
Two streams met and looked ahead at a vast desert.
The trees were dry and withered: nothing grew; the mouths of the cattle were chapped: everything was dry, awful.
The first said to the second, ‘What are you going to do?’
The second stream travelled to the desert.
The desert said, ‘I am going to swallow you. There will be no change, for I am glad when everything is dry, withered and dead.’
The second stream flowed on.
The desert opened its mouth, swallowed the stream and remained a desert.
The first stream shook its head, turned right round, passed boulders, went on up, up, reached the infinite lake which looked at the stream and said, ‘I have long looked for a channel.’
The stream said, ‘Pour through me.’
The lake poured through the stream.
The desert said, ‘I will drink you up.’
The little stream flowed on and on and swallowed up the desert, and all the barren land blossomed like a rose.
Ephraim Alphonse: Panama
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Oh my, how I’ve missed you dear Simon!! Somehow the days blur together and months elapse in a blink. I hope you and your family are well, despite this somewhat dystopian time of covid. Your point though, as always, is well taken. Time to look into each others’ eyes and use this pause to truly see. Sending much love, m
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‘Tis a wondrous thing indeed, dear Mimi, that friendship is above, and beneath, and all around, and entirely transcends the mere blinks and detail of time, eh? Another lovely friend and I have been speaking of ‘pause to truly see’ – and I’ll post here the video that touches me to the core of my soul. Lots of love for you and Andy too. I’ll try to be a better correspondent – but you know that souls are in touch whether or no! xx
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With the practice of the last four months I’m noticing that it’s a conscious effort to smile with my eyes and I find that my whole body is smiling.
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How perfectly lovely. I’ve just been grocery shopping and am delighted by all that can be, and is, communicated by the eyes we’re encountering in entirely new ways. Thanks for sharing 🙏
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