Dark forest floor rich in needle loam
No chance here for new life to grow
Monocrop, shutterstop, heart closed
Like ranks of solider pines shoulder
To shoulder march stiff in time.
But something breaks rank, cracks a
Shaft of sunlight through, and suddenly
A tinkling glade of snowdrops scatter
dew-dropped and glittering
A mirage aching sweet fire in my belly
Sipping neat honey mead.
Light in the dark
A warming seed.
What will grow now as the pines retreat?
Husbanding my light in a kind of greed
Waiting for the right one, some slender tree
But the first fast colonisers are the thriving weeds
I am the fecund fertile soil fearless
Pine-stained, but churning life will clear me
Clean me ready for fresh growth to dream me
Into new webs of interaction compounding
Relaxing into narratives unknown
Soldier pines groan under the weight of
Their own uncertainty
Morale is shaky.
I stand still, lean in.
Soil stands and holds, terra firma firmly loving
Supporting and uplifting life in endless gifting
I stand still, lean in.
Don’t need to know what a seed will grow
Let the light flow and water shimmer
Be whoever you are root deep in me.
Root deep in me.
Sprouts yawn open arms fresh naivety
Drink me in with loving hungrily
We grow together uniquely into
A future misty with mindquestions
Quiet.
Trust the light, and the water,
Trust the seed, and the fight
Trust that this will be healing
Wholing, whatever comes next
She’ll be right.
Joe Blogs, Mar 2023