Day 1: Not a soul to be seen

Not a soul to be seen

Except for Hare, Blackbird,

Deer, Wren

and

Many

Many

Many birds, tits great and blue

Chiff chaff

Green woodpecker and mallards laugh

And I breathe into the rhythm of my steps

 

 

Not a sound of machines anymore

Not a trail in the sky

I am alone in a returned world

That has been waiting

Patiently

Squeezed out to the edges of dawn and dusk

Until now

 

 

Not a membrane betweeen me and

What is out there anymore,

My ears attune to bird song

A rustle in the still-frozen undergrowth

The thud of a fleeting deer’s footfall

The pad of my own feet

Touching the earth

 

 

Not a natural sound

Throbbing grows

Somewhere out there

An out-of-place van appears

Bright orange van of a scaffolding man

I cry a little sob of pity

Go home, my eyes plead

He drives past me

 

 

Not her

I come home to hear a friend has it

Caught it on pilgrimage

Now she endures her pain and fear and has no breath nor strength

A ripple of pity

Widening into love

Flows through me into her

And all of us

 

 

Her once strong legs are mine today

What do we love this world for?

Unless for the days when the magic

We love

Turns on us and

Challenges us to breathe in

Out

Stay with us

Are souls are being seen

Don’t go away

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s