Return of the Swifts

Tonight arching over the sky in acrobatical enjoyment the swifts returned. Their scymitter wings slice through the heavens - soaring - elated in the moment - living every second - never resting - the sleek sharks of the skies - piercing harbingers of summer - of life - of joy.
Forgive the flow of consciousness - my spirit rejoices in the return of the swifts!

Proud

Why nail my flag to the mast of outness when good friends and family know?
This week I had a friend tell me how she was bullied for being gay before she even knew. I have gone through, a pass straight, in the apartheid of sexuality. And yet so many of the remarkable, beautiful people I know in the LGBT community have suffered prejudice and hate. I am a consultant for a religious organisation - being out at work could very realistically mean my contract is 'regrettably' not renewed, but again my friend reminded me that at least now you wouldn't be sacked from most jobs as you would have done not so long ago.
I am lucky I have come out to understanding and approval - I generally wait until people know me well so that they get to know ME, rather than a preconceived, self fulfilling stereotype.The only place that has struggled to accept me as I am and not wish for me to change has been, expectedly but ironically, church. But I am proud to be part of this community of inspirational dynamic people - if you are proud of something it is one of the first things people know about you not the last. So expect to see me rainbow festooned marching head held high through the streets for Norwich Pride - inside I will be wishing I was less stereotypically dressed- but in a minor way - compared to the respect and pride I will have in my fellow journeyers marching on that queer pier of destiny!

Yearning

My spirit calls out
Across familiar landscapes
Reaching for its kind,
Seeking understanding-
being seen and known.
A cure for this alien ailment:
To be found and to find.

Sunlight on Snow

Promised winter sunlight shimmers-
quicker than thought it
Dances on the scarred surface-
Raw ridges softened by fresh predawn dusting,
Hardened by the night's sharp Haw.

Spotlights of caressed uniqueness
Impossible beacons within the dazzling glare.
Miragical beauty in the frozen desert-
Promise of carefully concealed treasures-
Truthes to emerge in thaw.