It is dawning
Slowly
Through the treacle of incompetence
That my words count
And I should be writing what I am learning
Like the truth that Spirit Animal
Gazed at me
Waiting at the edge of the glade
For me to enter
Or the doorway
Made from oak
Hanging suspended
By nothing
And through it I glimpse
A mountain top
And a chalice
And air
Pure and crisp blows in my eyes
And they water
With its sting
And with love
Or the wild garlic
Whose scent I can only occasionally catch
So I know I am both human and not
I do not
Do things like everyone else
Or the mugwort
Sprouted by my garden bench
Whose leaves I caress like the dog’s ears
And who whispers dreams and visions as I sit
And tells me it’s time to step into them
Fully
If
I
Dare
Nwyfre 