What you'll find here

 

Welcome to this jumble sale of writings, musings, observations and inspirations: I hope you find something to help you on your journey home.  It's all storytelling, in the end. That's how we understand things; the stories of who we are, where we came from, where we're headed. The stories of other people, how they came to be who they are, which stories shaped them, why our stories sometimes run parallel, and sometimes clash.

When we're motivated enough, we can change our stories, write new outcomes for ourselves and our people, our planet. All it takes is imagination, where there are, genuinely, no limits.

Warmest regards

Peter Neary-Chaplin

Writer. Poet.

 

 

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    « Balaam | Main | I buried yesterday »
    Wednesday
    27Jan2010

    Prodigal

    I guess I'm coming home today

    “I’m sorry Father” I want to say

    Forgive me that I ran away.

    My belly shrank, I nearly died

    And still I drag behind my soul

    Heavy with pride.

    And you, watching from afar

    To see if I’d return again

    From this old self-inflicted war.

     

    Let your Kingdom come

    Put rings upon these fingers

    Let your Kingdom come

    In feast and finery

    Let your Kingdom come

    And let me still remember

    How you kiss my neck

    How I fly free

    Where every songbird bursts its cage

    Every mustang roams the range

    Stands wild upon a mustang’s stage

    And eats no husk

    But fresh green herb

    Under the blanket of dusk.

     

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