Sheena has reminded me that way back when some time a few weeks ago I invited people to spend some little time in a favourite spot and respond in 100-word prose poems – a discipline I set for myself and others frequently. Here are Sheena's lyrical contributions:
~~~
The woods are singing spring
– in cuckoo call, in the juicy green of new beech leaves, in the air that
smells of growing things. Perched on a lichened log, I let the life-energy
around me flow into and calm my too fidgety mind. I share my seat with tiny scurrying
insects; a kaleidoscope of primroses, dog violets, celandines and sorrel lines
the path. Behind me the first bluebells are opening and, as the warmth of a
shaft of sunlight releases their scent, foraging bees arrive. Bird music,
butterflies, all these flowers, the magical and healing trees – I feel so
blessed.
~~~
Dimpsy – how I love the word,
and the time of day. Between dog and wolf a world of wonder lies, as birdsong
falls away and the garden holds its breath. This is a potent silence, full of
unspoken meanings. The diminishing light is reborn in the petals of white
columbines and roses; pale moths appear with the first stars. Now is the moment
to wait, to be prepared to learn. Even harder, to believe. At threshold moments
like this it seems heartbreakingly possible that we could return to something
that we have lost, but know in our hearts to be ours.
© Sheena Odle
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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