trailing forget-me-nots the river today not even an insect’s sound 6 August 2015
choosing to let go the loosestrife heavy with bees
the scent of roses
first drops of rain –
still this humming of the bees
in the blaeberries
sunlight on water the slow turn of a lotus flower Even in the hills, the pure stickiness of this afternoon: a trickle of sweat, so many clouds of flies, the pool at the centre of the garden the splashing of a blackbird. Samye Ling, August 2013
A poem about listening, and fullness, and letting the simplest of words be enough.
It comes suddenly in my memory, rolling off the North Sea and catching us unawares. Although it has been known to move slowly and settle, blanketing the whole of a day, or an east coast town, it moves fast at the shore till we’re running and shrieking not just with cold but laughter at the […]
without might my words fall into love prayers of my heart pulsing in the flower meadow all clover woven round my insect watching without might you feel the summer laughter blowing in my hair, full free to be girl lying in the summerfield
A prose poem singing the praises of the fields and hedgerows on a still summer day.
A psalm to the song of the hedgerows of the morning.