Some Spiritual Poems and Songs   by Julia Woodman  

a poem - from "Spirit Songs"


to honour the source,
the mountain,
the wind,

the stranger within us,
the friend,
the beckoning,
hoarse whispers…..

a poem -
experience widened,
transformed -

remaking our world,
our selves,



ALL from "Spirit Journeys & Guided Dreams"

When we were wondrous beings of light,
Sparks of the Oneness;
When we chose to live this dream upon Earth;
We chose each other as souls we would meet along the way,
as fellow actors upon this stage, in this play.
You are a wondrous being of Light
Come out of the Cosmos
to adventure on Earth with me......
Let us be the ALL we were truly meant to be!

Stress from "Sacred Selves"

You come in from the bright street -
your small screams trapped in the fine
tight fabric of your clothes,
your blood ticking irritatingly as ever.

You come in again and again -
every day wearing a different face
and different body; always
the same pain comes in to sit here.

In my silent chair the light reaches into your spaces.
The radiance reflects your inner wounds
and I bend my head towards their whisper,
let my hands follow, guide, follow through.

You, without fail, are astonished
and altered. When you step out again
into the wind, it somehow seems different
out there in the world, and more easy.

Vibrations from "Sacred Selves"

Hands on, hands on, hands on,
tune into your body’s song,
listen to the messages
creeping through your energy
patterns of anatomy
speaking subtly, patiently.

Silence, stillness, may be best for you -
…. seep into tranquility,
release the tensions of the day,
give them time and space to drain away ….
- but wriggle, chatter, if you will -
I don’t mind, it’s all the same for me.

Feel the light stream flowing,
see in the mind’s eye colours glowing,
hear that tingle jingle in the fingers,
in the palms, and in the arms,
through the crown and brow and heart -
simply dancing through the body, down, and out.

STAY from "Riding the Escalator"

They come here, wanting to be loved,
and the boys on the stage receive them,
not to be loved as lovers, or like children,
but as trees, streams, white clouds shifting, waves in an ocean.

And the boys sing, they caress them, crooning, crooning.
They close their eyes, and they listen,
like leaves, like shadows on bright water.
They sway with the stroke of the music,
subtle hands of the music, soothing, soothing,
all in tune with love, and the slow world moving.

Stay boys, play boys,
Like birds in the grass, like fish swimming,
just a little bit longer, sing
like rain, like sand, like wind in the night, prickling,
like sunlight under their skins,
they want, to be loved.

Life Stream - from "Spirit Songs"

I see the pebbles in my stream
like bones tumbling,
so remove myself above it.

If I try to control the stream’s flow
it makes no difference,
I only exhaust myself!

It is amazing that the stream has somewhere to go;
and it has no other way to go,
it must flow to the great sea
before it can return to the Source.
A river that dries up in the desert sand
is only taking a short cut.

One can tumble along in one’s river
or one can dance with it,
gracefully kicking one’s knees up
and laughing.

TEA from "Following Father"

They'd asked for coffee,
but I was making tea
and thinking of other things
like snow, and silence,
and the rhythm of the sea.

Over mountains, deserts, and grasslands
I wandered absent-mindedly
and, with a bird's-eye view of heaven,
calmly poured the tea
into the sugar bowl.

To Say Thanks for the Light in Your Heart
- from "Spirit Songs"
Thirteen gold stars
to my white knighted being ……
A rainbow of life
to my friend who is shining ……..
May bright angels always
be there to guide him.
Touched by the beings
he came here to tell us of ……
Brushed by the wings
that carried his soul close ……
Kissed by the mothers
and fathers of the host.
Love to him forever,
love to us both ……..
Love to the world,
peace to all on earth …….
May she rise
as we close our eyes
…. and re-birth.

PAIN from "Sacred Selves"

I am stubborn
about not taking pain killers
but still I go out
amongst my friends.

I see how they love me
and rush about trying to help.
I see how their eyes fill.
I see how others feel helpless.

Am I being selfish
to go out among them
with my pain so brazen
it screams for attention?

No, I am only a small human
scouting like a mouse for morsels
amongst the rubble of the world,
trusting my friends to sustain me.

FORGIVENESS from "Sacred Selves"

Do I need to be forgiven
for days I don't write
or talk to anyone on the phone?

Do I need to be forgiven
for dancing round the house
and out down the path
onto grass where birds
bathing in sun
are startled into trees?

Do I need to be forgiven
for forgetfulness or untidyness
or singing?

Do I need to be forgiven
for getting lost on islands of time
or in thoughts or dreams?

I am an arrow flying slowly
towards my own self
I don’t think I need seek
forgiveness for this.

FLY from "SPAN"

Delicate, butterfly winged, we vainly push against the sky, each trying to find our place.
Yes, we are going to die, let’s not beat about the bush.
Maybe today, maybe tomorrow, maybe many years from now.
Meanwhile, we have someone who loves us, someone to love.
Surely there is no need to hesitate.


So, we may not be able to explain the world. Not exactly. But we CAN accept it, and love it.
We CAN turn our faces to the light and examine the minutest details simply for the sake of it.
We CAN live lives of joy and purpose. We are all part of one whole. Take comfort in this:
Almost every one of us is capable of holding a cup to another’s lips without our hands shaking.

FOREVER RAINBOWS from "Sacred Selves"

I am in love with the reckless clouds
which tumble across the sky
with no regard for bruising.

I am drunk on rays of sun
which come like shafts
between ribs and into the heart.

I am infatuated with breezes and raindrops
which come like philosophers to mutter
amongst the hard stones of the universe.

I am inspired by trees and mountains
which lean their wise old backs into the wind
and continue to live in their dreams.

What would we do without these things
in this world where lovers and moons must play
at the same time as seriously loving.

Where would we be without these things
in this place where people and stars must pray
at the same time as working.

Praise be for feathers and ice-cream
and also for fingers to feel and tongues to taste them
and for ears to hear deserts and oceans
and eyes to see forever rainbows and lightning.

- from "Spirit Songs"

Mist lies over the river
like the icy breath of winter angels.
Darkness gathers round... and it is beautiful.

Thank you for this life, this death,
whatever it is you are
that makes us finally see.

BIRDS - from the book Sacred Selves

My poems are filling with birds -
feathers and wings gently fluttering,
glistening eyes.

Why are they coming into my heart,
so suddenly white and beautiful,
so unexpected?

They seem to b e personal symbols,
as well as messengers for others,
of what we can rise to.

We are capable of being so much more
if we let ourselves rise up
to fly like Christ......

Ah, now it is gods we are talking about!
And why not? They have wings,
don't they?

We can be whatever we want to be -
birds, or beasts, or gods, or angels......
we create our selves.

So, I am a bird for this moment,
a white bird flying towards the sun
and a new horizon.

My dreams come flying towards me
for I am warm
and filled with love

PAINTING - as vessel, from which thirsty lips drink, spirit.
ART - as glass, through which open eyes see, universe.
NEED - for light, and space, to speak heart quietly free.

NAMING the EARTH (long poem) - from "Spirit Songs"

Cloud from "Spirit Songs"

There is a cloud in the sky.
That cloud came from behind
my eyes.

It is floating away from my life
because I have called the sun
to shine

bright - right - delight!

The Secret of Your Grace from "Sacred Selves"

Life is a dream / Life is divine
Life is unreal / Gonna make it mine
Gonna map it out, from day to day
Gonna make it easy, gonna laugh and play
‘Cause we are all just one
little spark from the sun
and we’ll all be together some day.

There is power / There is delight
There is magic / There is life
and the universe goes round and round in whispers
coaxing us all to become light keepers.
And the secret of your grace
is that smile upon your face
which comes from deep inside - dream weaver.

Forget your inhibitions / Trust your intuition
Walk the path of knowing who you are
With visualizations and affirmations
you can reach for the beauty of the stars.

Life is a dream / Life is divine
Life is unreal / Gonna make it mine
Life is a dream / Life is divine ……
……….mmm, yeah

For Tim’s Luxuries file from "Sacred Selves"

It is a luxury:
to know you…..
yes you -
stop looking behind you!

It is a luxury:
to be among friends…..
all so mad and wonderful
you feel like you fit in.

It is a luxury:
to be on this earth…..
with its leaves and dreams
and rivers and breathing things.

It is a luxury:
to be one unique spark
of the vast white hot fire
that is the ONE LIGHT -

........... that is LIFE!

Meditation from "Sacred Selves"

Slip through a chink
into the gap beyond -
beyond the fabric of the world
to where there is no matter,
only energy.

This time, instead of just feeling it
I see golden ladders,
criss-crossing webs of energy
with spaces between,
and there are hollows, like hammocks
where one can sit, cupped,
comfortable, quiet, and safe.

There are warm wooly bits of cloud
to cover yourself over with -
not only your body
but also your eyes
and your mind -
so that you can be properly free
from that old world
of matter, and rushing confusions,
and truly BE.

At Last I am Love from "Sacred Selves"

Elbow, kidneys, chest, eyes -
Massage your head and kiss your mind.
Feel the overwhelming love of God -
Know the giving’s going good.

At last I am love, light, whole.
I trust: see, listen, feel.
It is time to begin, now, I know.
Grateful, joyful, I go.

Angelic People from "Riding the Escalator"

People who come unannounced
with their smiles into my life.
People who touch me with warm probing fingers.
People who fold their wings at my door.
People who send me their poems.
People who ring when they shouldn't.
People who don't care if they shouldn't.
People who want to anyway.
People who laugh.
People who relax.
People who know when to keep quiet.
People who just are.

The Poetry of Cats from "Following Father"

I am Leo the lion,
my brothers and sisters are cats.
They look into my eyes
and we understand each other.

We like to sit and watch,
blink, watch,
take notes.
We prowl on soft feet
and sometimes we pounce.

We love the sun,
warm yellows, golds.
We curl together
and perform our poetry:
stroke, scratch, rub,
yawn stretch yawn, purr purr.

From a Time Before - from "Spirit Songs"

I remember
seeing all ways at once
knowing it all
smelling the scent of heavenly places

I remember
having no limitations
not believing one thing or another
but being it all

I remember
being the one
of the one
that is the one

I remember
the sound of streams and rivers
the voices of water
the voice of the woods and the air

I remember
voices always being there
and animals and birds
with their soothing faces

I remember
seeing the golden flame
of the butterfly’s lightness
shimmer and disappear and re-appear

I remember
the song of angels
in the mountains
and in my hair

I remember
the animals whisper
in the throat of the moonlit night
and the whales in the depths slowly dancing

I remember
touching the face of the planet
and feeling the breathing
soft in the heart of my soul

I remember
the leaf tickling
feet giggling
journeys through fields of old

I remember
young sweet dripping dewdrops
and pink pearly stones
and shells on the shore

I remember
once when there was a candle
on the hilltop calling
going in my bare feet and night dress to listen

I remember
the age of the rock face
the darkness of caverns
the coldness and slowness of time there

I remember
somehow from someplace now
the fine taste of stardust in my mouth
the all encompassing light of love

I remember
knowing you before
separate yet together
as we are once more

I remember
how the flow of friendship
was and is like the waves of the ocean
swinging halfway across the world

I remember
the hum of long grass and insects
and the feminine belly curve
of foothills growing into mountains

I remember
butter yellow sunshine
and sudden clouds looming
before the excitement of the storm

I remember
the rain like cold needles
and the truth like a seed
cradled in the earth of my heart

I remember
the bud and the flower unfurling
over and over again
always more beautiful than before

I remember
the kittens simple soft wetness
when it came in its newness
into this world


May I call you ‘Daddy’? For your poem tongue
makes very wise and loving sounds within your mouth.
For you love the many souls of writers as if they were
your wondering wandering children, and translate
their songs for us and sing them. For you love the very world
as if it were the crib of your own baby daughter;
who is I, tonight, tomorrow, and thereafter.
For I never want to grow up -
I want to lie gurgling delightedly - listening to your voice,
which is also the voice of every pebble on the beach
and every shell shining modestly in the night’s glimmer.

Daddy don’t worry - I won’t ask you for food or a blanket
like an anxious old dog, I won’t follow you about
with my stupid tail asking for approval.
I won’t ask you for a loan or the car keys either.
I’ll just be here with only my ears growing longer,
until they’re so long they’ll flop over my eyes with satisfaction.

- from "Spirit Songs"

When the seed inside you swells,
as you wake to a new winter day
with white petticoats of mist
dangling from the skies,
you feel the warmth,
the life
that seeds give us
when they swell inside;
and you hit the road
with a fantastic smile

Extract from OPTIMISM - from the book Spanish Poems

All these days I have, I rush forwards
with eyes glowing, over deserts
expecting flowers to burst open upon my retinas
and stars to fall into my hands.

My bones know their way home.
They are not afraid to live while they can.

from the book Sacred Selves

Each moment falls away
I shed it like a skin
ans smile and start again.

I live ten thousand years
and die ach day -
flying with the grace of change.

I touch each blissful instant
with the kiss of intuition -
love frees itself, and I.

Cosmic Breath - from "Spirit Songs"
Out There - from "Spirit Songs"


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