Poem Hunting - Falkland - 11/10/13

(a poem hunt with my mum!)

Paths laden with possibility,
Hidden trail - leading where?!!
To deer and to mystery
Travel on fox-feet
So many secrets here all around...
Trampling through fallen leaves
Acorns awaiting their destiny
Where are we going? Where have we been?
Over stumps and bracken,
Into mystery of mind.
Crunch, crunch, crunch,
go our footsteps,
In search of skeletons.
Burrow - hidden secrets inside
Dry riverbeds reveal mushrooms
Peer deeply to see
Blocked paths - which way to go?
We follow our instincts
to find our way.

(c) 2013

Poem Hunting - A Journey Along the A1 - 24/08/13

The adventure into a new life begins,
blessed by hazy sunshine.

Let's be bold!

We sail south through purples and greens
to the piper's call.
And so the wheel turns,
a battle to widen perspectives,
while giants slumber.
The crows carry out their moorland inspections,
oblivious of our intent.

We each hold the key to other hearts
and delight in opening our arms
to embrace all lost and found.
A butterfly's blessing skims overhead
as we glimpse sanctuary.
We are not lost, recovery is within our grasp,
under the watchful gaze of the ancients.

Seeds are sown, questions dispersed
on the summer breeze...

Can we make more space in our living for time to play?
Be the best you can be, comes the reply.

Shadows cast on concrete;
ghosts of flowers long since gone.

Do we qualify for the life we seek?
It is for us to decide whether
the slightest slip will spell disaster;
or will we soar like angels on fearless wing?

Dream on, seek the poetry in changing landscapes.
Raise your hopes aloft and cradle your fears.
Bridge the gap of your existence with patient serenity
until your purpose reveals itself from your darkest moment.
We quench the thirst of our soul
with questions from our inner knowing.

Every once in a while, stop long enough
to feel the grass beneath your feet
and listen to the wisdom of  trees.
Be sure to rejoin the path,
but only take what you can carry.

We are all poets and this is our soul journey,
the destination is of our choosing.

Are we enough?

(c) Caren Gilbert

Art of Mentoring

Blessings of community,

and the first falls prey to the land.

Why am I here?

Surrender to intention
Belong to the future
Expand to limitations
Open up to knowledge of self
Awaken ancestral wisdom,
from the unknown, unnamed place.

A burst of change to maintain our aliveness.

Learn to talk to trees,

and never forget how.
Meet yourself and learn to be alone.
Wait for things,
until you become present and peaceful.

Always leave a trail.

Hold time in your hand,

be the steward of yourself.

Find fantasy in the land,

and in your imagination.
Ignite passion with curiosity.
Cultivate aliveness to make peace in the world,
and your inner self.

Dragon bark and tree splinters nestle,

in myriad of bird green and water song.
 
The brave explore barefoot;
I do not.
I am neither barefoot, nor brave
 – yet.

I lay entranced by breeze and babble,

And footsteps of invisible ancestors.

And I ask;

Why am I here?

(c) Caren Gilbert

Poem Hunting - Loch Leven - 15/07/13

Motion
Lush sea of green
Swirling, wild, windy
Helicopter perspectives
Lack of wondering leads
to wordless disappointment
Unseen buzzard song
Questing quietly,
come visitors on wings
Ideas sparkle toward the horizon
Fleeting fortunes
Dashing, dancing dansers
Summer clouds, crowds scroll
Fly freely

(c) Caren Gilbert

Poem Hunting - Falkland - 13/07/13 (solo)

Time loses itself
amongst ancient trees,
the manicured disorder of newly tended grass
where buttercups wait patiently.
Land takes on new form and
the wind discovers new channels
through which to weave its stories,
caressing my ears with whispered promises
of the secrets of life.

The upside down tree, branches sunk far beneath me,
a reminder of the energy out of sight,
forgotten in the rush of every day.

A pause to connect and let sparks ignite,
buzzard-song reminders of a forgotten dance,
echoes of a rhythm stirred in the stopping,
seeds sown in each movement.
Babble and hoot guide the journey;
spiral, circle, arch, twist, entwine, channel, sweep,
explore, torrent...

Seek the depths.

Create community, entangle purpose, reflect,
find beauty,
contemplate.
Step boldly into the unknown,
get lost in its embrace.
Gather, inspire, discover, invite immersion,
roar, return.

Encourage joyful industry, float.
Look inward and outward in equal measure.
Collect, let anger flow.

Disrupt destruction.

(c) Caren Gilbert

Poem Hunting - Dunnington - 14/06/13

Wind-blown thoughts scatter,
sown across fields,
yearning to fly.
Songs of foreign words
intrigue our senses,
lost in translation.

A distant chatter
from a faraway world
of unknown things.
We know by heart
the call of nature.
The feel of solid ground
urging us ever onward,
toward hearth and home.

(Silenced by the storm)

(c) 2013

Poem Hunting - Falkland - 25/05/13

We stalk silence
with heavy feet
in wooded dells
where deer feast
between queued trees,
ordered rows sublime.
Silence is splintered
by misplaced feet
and bounding dogs.

A sense of belonging
among the trees,
spirits of nature
calling us deeper.
Weeping eyes watch,
tears bring us home.
Bird and tree-song,
name whispering leaves.
Squirrels furtive, unseen!
Reality evades view
           Hide and Seek.

(c) 2013

Poem Hunting - Lomond Hills - 25/5/13

An unrequited competition,
chasing silent shadows.
Cattle grazing unworriedly,
mystery bird perching,
straining our eyes;
revealing the unseen
beyond our lenses.
Reluctant poem hunter
words trapped inside,
birth is awaited.

Upon rocky crags,
tripping over syllables
stumbling across truth
~stories in silence~
Elusive murmur afar,
tightly curled fiddleheads
whispering to themselves.
Secrets stolen on treacherous breezes,
skittering stones underfoot.
The wanderers return.

(c) 2013

Poem Hunting - Falkland - 21/05/13

Weary trees, fallen,
sleeping in moss,
worries set free.
A peaceful slumber
of nature's making.
The bee's song
amongst green hues
and euphoric birdsong
calling spirit forth
to dance in silent spaces.

Poem Hunting ~ 13th April 2013

We hold hands, contemplating our dreams
I take strength, our indomitable spirit
soars swiftly skyward,
fuelled by hope of brighter tomorrows.

Changing our views, we discuss planting
trees of wisdom, our living legacy.
Green and lush, heralding an era.

(c) 2013

Poem Hunting - Falkland - 05/04/13

Eyes in trees, tracking our progress,
beside lapping water and blood-stained stumps.
All the while enticing in beauty,
bathing in life, soaking in every
sun-kissed hue, cloud streaked sky
and dappled leaf.

Time to reflect on fallen hopes,
seeking energy amongst nature's
scattered melodies, trees torn asunder,
glimpses of woodpeckers, life flourishing anew.
Circle of life, our souls exalt;
brimming with light, bathed in joy,
healed by land.

(c) 2013