A day stolen from the tide
light rain, a haze of green ghosting the trees
equal-handed the dark and the light
I walk the middle way
here where the blackbird sings rainsongs
and first bluebells push towards sky
sway of curdwhite windflowers below the birches
scudding of geese overhead
and this grace note: grazing the untended land between
water-meadow and road a trio of wild deer
~ Roselle Angwin
Walking the Old Ways : nature, the bardic & druidic arts, holism, Zen, the ecological imagination
from BARDO
The stars are in our belly; the Milky Way
Is it a consolation
is star-stuff too?
– That wherever you go you can never fully disappear –
Tree, rain, coal, glow-worm, horse, gnat, rock.
Roselle Angwin
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