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
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