Monday, 19 October 2015

18th October 2015

Clare's words

damp dew on leaf reaches my hand
I take moisture from you 
leaf, with your eye looking at water from the bridge

finger -touch rain on
each leaf, bramble, rose, bracken, beech
moisture, like source, like that

oh tall fizzled oak I watch your brown leaf fall and come to ground and bring it as one more

deer races silently across our path, intake of breath
messenger guide
soundless joy touched by light
we animal to earth under us and breathe the same air and moment
swift beauty
 I saw the deer slide by and be with us  a mutual reckoning and acceptance
I lie down where deer crossed to be in the air of its feet sliding though, sharing

a de-lived deer carcass goes by red and headless on a quad bike
life and death of a deer
 wildness, a funeral march then after the birth of light
cars go by like strange mourners
now keen, bend with sway as I think of lying in the tear grass, sky tear, tongue tear forehead sea, eyelids wetten
my face is covered in ground tears, my eyes carry my sea out

I lay my hand on soil
a mole’s earth
 it is warm as heated skin 
I sigh with surprise 
I trip on the shape of a horseshoe and feel the horse in my body 

birds, imagine your eyes on me as I sway

flower of purple I take you with gratitude to crown what is missing

a double leaf from the long open crossing of the flower meadow empathy embodied in their mutual hold

I lie on the road to get close to a puddle place my fingers in the cool water watch crows high up in the reflection, place the mud on my clothing, hands earthed now, carrying their skin too

one bindweed lifeless and one pure white a n offering of the present moment

I saw a leaf falling caught by another held in a simple rocking
horsetails now I know they are prehistoric and a tiny dinosaur land rises to my left

when I walk like this I see every bird that crosses my path
and my breath flutters with them 
are they always there and I not able to see them

thank you seeing warriors accompanying me, you comrades 
open all my eyes, sharing this is as simple as a shared instance
or as wide as the world 
open cracking  crosses borders even the borders we don’t share or understand

Bee's Words

the others are rubbing their waterproof clothing and I hear the flapping of birds wing
I rub my own palms and my skin turns to fabric

No comments:

Post a Comment