from BARDO

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.

Roselle Angwin

Saturday, 21 May 2016

two haibun

The moor shaking out her green finery, setting yellow fire to gorse

at the back door
this cleft rock –
home to moss and horse shit

The way earth holds death and life together in her belly, makes no judgement. We feel all the time we need to choose, to decide, to 'move forward', to achieve. How would it be if we could simply dwell in the cycles of it all?

constant chatter of drops
this leaky gutter
my mind

Outside, blackbird song. Spring doing her thing without our help; each year clothing this cherry with flakes of sunlight.


The larch tree is full of herself again, has emerged with Persephone to give us another summer of her greenness

in the rocky bank
fumbles at the wrong hole

and all the while a soft rain seduces earth's skin to open

the imperative 
is growth
it will break you apart

until, stumbling, you find yourself at the foot of the right mountain at exactly the right moment, ready to begin again.


© Roselle Angwin 2016



  1. I settle down to writing, procrastinating, looking for courage, inspiration, and there you are with handfuls of hope: I feel that gentle push in the hollow of my back, whisper to myself – I can do it – then close this and go to pages.
    Thanks Ro, for such a beautiful start to this writing day – the garden, the world here alight, mist consumed.
    Miri x

  2. What a lovely, and poetic, response, Miri. Thank you. Rx


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