I laugh when you call in the light
For you don’t know what you’re asking
You wanted warm and fuzzy
Instead you got a huntress on a horse
Chasing you down, a white-hot beam
Shining right on your most painful places
A hand grenade that is about to
Go off in your gut, and an excavation
Into all you had forgotten and never
Wanted to see again

Oh fool, did no one warn you
This light you long for would first
Dredge the darkness curled up
In an aching corner of your soul
And sear you so badly that only
The bravest of you would come 
Through its flame of fiery scrutiny
With the nobility that is your birthright?

© simon heathcote


Mortal – a poem




This portal you see in me


Is in fact a gateway to You


I wonder, when two people


Are caught in Neptune’s


Watery glare, under Aphrodite’s


Spell, within reach of Eros, her son’s


Aim, what chance they have to


Recall they are also mortal


And bound by law and code?


For in our flight into the heavens


Held captive by those gods


Who long for us and envy our


Exquisite, ecstatic possibility,


We so easily forget we need


Saturn’s earthy limitations


And are held in this dimension


For reasons profound, mysterious


Mundane, and mortal


I love taking flight yet find peace


And fulfilment when I can


Straddle both Heaven and Earth


While accepting the cross I chose


In a pastness lost to time




© simon heathcote











Tao Days – a poem

Be done with becoming 
And rest in being
Cease betterment and
Ideas of healing
Relinquish struggle

Relegate the mind
To its own recesses
And step, joyously
From its prison on to
The Floor of all possibility

Only this one action
Does not come from you
Instead, it opens like a flower
And is both fruit and finality 
Of all other possibilities


For Jessica

Let me walk back to you

Down the years of your life

Erasing your hurt, carefully, tenderly

Every nuance and hint heard

Robbing you of all dismissals

Taking back my failures

So you slowly turn back toward life,

The life that you are, the girl that you were

Let me pass through the pain and pour honey

Into the recesses of your heart

If I could do it all again, I would never leave your side

I wonder if you heard my silent night-time words

In those years away from you my child,

In my lonely bed at night, calling you

Trying to hold on, to walk the tightrope

That lay, taut, over the crevasse of our life

We were cast in this play by unremembered ghosts

And the Fates who spun our lots

Yet the events that fell upon us only appear to distort

Our love, each to each

For I am your father and I live in you and love you

Soul to closest soul

 Let me walk back to you



See me, see me now

‘Each man’s soul demands that he be, and that he live, every great archetypal role in the collective unconscious: the betrayer and the betrayed, the lover and the beloved, the oppressor and the victim, the noble and the ignoble, the conqueror and the conquered, the warrior and the priest, the man of sorrows and the self reborn.’ Robert A Johnson

I like this fraudulent arc that runs through my soul with its cast of characters that appear to evolve and devolve life after life. They are projections on a screen in a brightly lit cinema that makes these days happenings of glorious wonder; the blue vein under the skin of my life.

And yet there is only light, and when I see only your shadow I know I have work to do, mining my interior for the cruelty, calamity and chaos that crawls through time, casting clouds of doubt between us.

I am reminded that when I stray into unbelief in your essential goodness to look again through the eye of my troubled heart and cleanse the lens that has obscured my view. Perhaps then I can see both you and I, once more with a timeless eye that looks beneath, beyond and behind both shadow and dust.

It seems to me now, that beauty and the beast are one, one without the other, and each needs something the other has to circle back and complete itself. Can I, will I, see the love hiding in your pain? Will you see mine?

I can only hope and have faith in your vision and keen eye, and a heart whose purity is still traceable despite the rude interruptions of your biography. Will you do the same for me? For we have spent lifetimes together and apart and something in us needs the other.

See me, see me now.


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