Nonsense

  There’s a place where all the shavings go, Where it is I do not know; At night when we all sleep and dream, They write the things that should have been.   Copyright Tom Tide 2017

Cathartic

A beautiful print of many, many birds in flight hangs by my bedside. It is a perfect circle of airborne seabirds. A maelstrom of wings that swoop and soar. Countless, delicately drawn souls. The canvas is crowded and difficult to take in all at once, and yet it brings me a deep sense of calm….

Sumer is icumen in!

It is surprising what a teacher can do with a blank door and a dog-eared Ladybird picture book. I detested the idea of throwing away my charity shop bought copy of What to Look for in Summer’. It has now transformed the door of my classroom in to a little glimpse of summer fecundity, and as such…

Fleeting

We move too fast. Miss even our own actions. Every movement, and all the traces left. As we thunder through. Mostly oblivious.   © Tom Tide 2016

Pinpoint

I looked at my dog-eared road atlas today. Battered. Only turned to in lost, driving  desperation. I happened upon a page, with a red dotted line. Felt transported. My fingertips running over names long forgotten. Suddenly recalled in sharp focus.   Every step measured out and walked with you. So long ago. You, a globe…

Convocation

A strange meeting. Prayerful, with eyes lowered and bowed heads. This convocation of hands Graceful as  dancers; steadily Holding life and limb- A silent congregation, intent Upon salvation. Invoking healing, as if souls, not mouths, could converse. All in Accord, held by a moment bathed in light.  Yet moving mechanically, as the many parts of a…