A tree of butterflies alive for a day in the sun;
and a woman with a camera and a secret she won’t tell anyone,
because the moment it’s whispered a secret stops being true.
The secrets that I keep are my simple offering to you.
They’re the stillness between moments when life happens all by itself;
like this small tiny lizard that knows nothing of wisdom or wealth;
in that cold perfect eye is a secret nobody knew;
and the way his throat fluttered with every breath that he drew.
And the tail and the toes and the flickering, trembling tongue too;
the delight that this gives me is my simple offering to you.
A tattoo awakens a memory, and I’m drowning in a sentimental ocean.
Amidst the wreckage of my good intentions and my earnest, clumsy devotion;
Right now, tears behind my sunglasses is all I can offer you;
as the tides carry me, irresistably, back to where they always do.
Back to two fragile lovers colliding in a confusion of passion that precluded any plan.
I don’t know why it ended! I don’t even know why it began!
Now I’m back being haunted by those fears that I swore I’d pursue,
Waiting for the sun to go down, ‘cos I don’t know what else to do.
I buried memories on the ruins of that passion and there flowers grew;
and the end of my rage is my simple offering to you.
It’s raining, it’s morning and cool sounds bring me ease,
the heat of the day is absolved by a gentle breeze.
Time is suspended by the smells that the raindrops imbue;
and this breath # in this moment # is my simple offering # to you.
The man that I am, bent, broken, bruised and sore,
Soon to be nearer the Divine than I have ever been before.
So many things I didn’t say, so many things I didn’t do.
And just a handful of memories: sacred, precious and few.
So, me as I am, a mercurial contradictory cockatoo;
it’s all that’s left, and it’s my final offering to you.