Cardiff Bay

The stiff gray winds of Cardiff Bay

push along white swans

Yellow & green grass dance in the wetlands.

The sun is up.

All is in motion now.

There is no solid ground once you leave shore.

To venture forth

You must

feel the waves, and

divine the path.

It’s not ballet

But a tango

Where the next step is made best by

Paying attention

to what’s

before you,

in you,

around you,


the music your soul is tuned to hear.

(c) Allegra Jordan 2013. Thanks to Benita Ryan for explaining the tango to me.

The wind & the waterfall

In wild, woolly Wales

I saw the wind blow

A waterfall back up its hill.

The rain was hard and

Kicked the stream down the steep hill

To where it could not

But fall down

That rocky canyon.

But that swollen stream met its match at

A slated edge not fifteen feet from the roadside

Where the wind

Refused to cooperate with


And the water, with nowhere to turn

Did a back flip.

And flew part into the wind to go to new places

And part back into the stream to try again.

I’ve been that waterfall.

And by right and reason I was going down

Pulled by gravity,

Kicked by some,

Pushed by my own failings,

Falling rapidly in my despair.

The breath that refused to let me fall

Caught me by surprise.


It flung me back with confidence

And refused my surrender to gravity.

I became mist.

I became a different stream.

And the shocked onlookers

-One of whom was me-

Had a new story to tell.

(c) Allegra Jordan 2013