The stars are in our belly; the Milky Way our umbilicus.
Is it a consolation that the stuff of which we’re made
is star-stuff too?
– That wherever you go you can never fully disappear –
dispersal only: carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen.
Tree, rain, coal, glow-worm, horse, gnat, rock.
Thursday, 25 October 2012
a few words from here
Walking the dog: crimson spindle leaves, lipstick-pink and orange flower-berries; and the stop-get-ready-go berries of bryony. A single dog violet. The horses cluster at the gates. I rest my hand under their manes on the warm necks; the grey gelding puts his head close to mine, and we breathe the day together.
As I shimmy the car through the narrow approach to Staverton Bridge the misty October light is resting milky on the river, face now pocked with leaves after the sudden gusts of last night's winds. A single white egret is perched in an alder. The Canada geese have gone, though later a flock of maybe 30 veed over the hedge in front of me.
This weekend I'll gather the rest of our beans for winter freezing: borlotti, flageolet.
In the yoga house under the sudden gusts of wind last night there was a strew of fallen almond-shaped leaves on the skylight like a Japanese haiga, like a subtle question, fading as the daylight receded and dark took over.
In the softly-lit yurt, the newborn baby murmured in the woodburner's glow.
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- Butterfly at Samhain (poem)
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- a few words from here
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