Exploring what is essential.
Miracles
Miracles touch down with
Lightening bolt ferocity
And hover languid
Unseen
They masquerade as the mundane
They ride waves of light
And waves of destruction
They are pronouncements of life
The language of consciousness
Pushing its inscrutable agenda
Despite our weary protests
And bleary eyes
Our delicate, deafening cries
And our rapt supplications for more
© H. Hennenburg, 21 February 2020
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Last One Standing
I see you
Living some hard truths
But living
Knowing that light creeps in
When injustice is done
Drawn to the will of the one
Who goes on loving
Because light attracts light
And love is uninjurable
I see you
Drowsy with pain and indignity
Bearing the weight…again
Leaving the door open
For the light to creep in
Because it is beyond your assailants’ reach
No matter how deep they are willing to slide
They don’t know what you can abide
And what you won’t
I see you
The truth in you alights the truth in me
Unites the will of love to be
The last one standing
© H. Hennenburg, 10 August 2019
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Only One Is True
I cannot single-handedly dismantle this illusion we have built together
None of us can
We try to make it on our own
But of course
None of us is ever truly alone
Every time I lift my hand
It is your hand I’m lifting
Every time I see my god
It is your face I’m seeing
Every time I raise my voice
It is your name on the tip of my tongue
So why am I so fused with this notion of separation?
So confused by how the I AM
And the WE ARE
So seldom agree with one another
When only one is true
But until I embrace the me in you
We are stranded
© H. Hennenburg, 16 April 2019
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Mercy
Mercy
You have arrested my tongue to ply it with honey
To coat my throat with sweet balm
You have named this day
The ever after
And I am after
Ever increasing bouts of you
Mercy
You are my secret sorceress conjuring relief
Release from the warrior’s way
I will not fight for love
Love would never have it
Love is in our habits of grace
Not in the way we face our demons
Mercy
You have stayed my sword
And my shield of armour undone
Tonight
I am a babe upon the altar for you
For love will not falter
And hope will abide
© H. Hennenburg, 14 July 2019
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Where Shall We Ramble?
River, where do you ramble?
In deep woods we meet
Inside a secret
That floats softly
From my tongue
Into your current
When I was a child
I plunged to your depths
And mingled with the watery spirits there
I rolled frantically like a pinwheel
Seeking purchase
Until invisible hands
Planted my feet in your muddied bed
I rose like a crooked cannon
Doubled over and ready to launch the remains of my burning breath
In violent exchange for a greedy gasp of the remains of my days
Which have led me here
Banking on your shoulder
Coming up short for time
Leaning in for invisible hands
And finding none
Here, I am the sacred one
I am become my own saviour
So pray you, River
Where shall we ramble?
© H. Hennenburg, 18 August 2019
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Consciousness seeks to nurture a deeper truth of being while the world wrestles confusion, tedium and opposing extremes.
Insides Out
From a precipice of reversals
I envisage realities stained by a confusion of tedium
I know only this: I am extant
Belly exposed – gnawed open by hunger for the interior
For a collusion of continuum that sees insides out
I am stable in my rudimentary way, but I reach…
I reach for the magma of understanding
Singeing my extremities
Vapourizing foundations
Reducing me to sediment
My core extracted
Gravitational lore exacted
On light of becoming
© H. Hennenburg, 11 January 2020
Joyfully linking with Poets & Storytellers United.
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Accord
I find the centre path
My eyes smouldering with exhaustion
I tell you I am here of my own accord
Then pluck my eyes out and retire
I am no more bound to the maelstrom
No more a rat in the labyrinth proving my worth
I have scattered my pennies
For their rat-tat-tat
On the glistening white floors
And danced to their rhythm
Until my soles bled
My red fortune spattered and spilt
I hand you the hilt
And plunge myself thus to eternity
If I pierce the fabric
We have staged a coup
And I am bound with you
Into the margins
© H. Hennenburg, 19 January 2020
Joyfully linking with Poets & Storytellers United.
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When we open ourselves to the truth and power of nature and light, we are resolved to the same truth and power within ourselves.
Rendered
A sylvan dream requites our arrival
Permeating gold ablution washes over giants
Reaching us in strands
Vestiges of brilliance painting our skin
We are but miscreants and maladies
An opus dissonant and wistful
Resolved and replete by respiring light
We are sublimating, reintegrating
Syncopated selves dissipating fleet
Into amorphic jubilance rendered
© H. Hennenburg, 20 December 2019
Joyfully linking with Poets & Storytellers United.
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Breach
When there is no view to the sea
I am reminded of the complexities and displacements
Shallows that engulf sentient beings
Leaving us stranded
With our monikers
For things we cannot name
Beveled edges bend the view
Until our eyes cannot attain clarity
Nor connect our own continuity to fluidity composed
But we embark on this odyssey
Unframed by expansion
And isn’t that the mandate of the universe?
Its sole prerogative
Amalgamations transcending
We are revoking and upending
What we’re meant to be
Mavericks waking cause to breach a higher sea
© H. Hennenburg, 12 November 2019
Joyfully linking with Poets & Storytellers United.
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I Am She
The story the sea told me
Lay open on the table
As I busied myself a perimeter around its truths
Always a wide berth
To protect my earthly longing
My trademark belonging
That makes me me
But not to the sea
To her, I am soluble
Like ink to water
Salt-scrubbed from pages
Happy to be free
To her, I am she
© H. Hennenburg, 30 September 2019
Joyfully linking with Poets & Storytellers United.
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