insouciance of the wind squall and showerensconced in climate change
One breath Suspended In the passage of timeThrough millennia DrawnTo be alive Amidst all fragility To be present In the folding layersTo know And to be fully knownTo conjure beautyIn the greyness of the dayTransported to the Mountains of the mind.
When to the eye the lens is set It is to anticipateThe grey- pink cloudIt’s signal knownThat robin and blackbird silenced are The Kaleidoscope is turned againGreens to bronzed outlinesClouds to yellowed smokeThen, preceded by a poignant pauseAll nature heldIt comes With forceIn deliberate pulseBeats in the rhythm of the day.
Purple Light filteredThrough curtains drawn;A lens to the worldClouded Not yet focused;Grey shadows Draw bold shapes-A landscape devoidOf detail;There’s a stillness In the windFingers of breathHeldIn readinessBut it is not yet time;Sound -taciturn-Noticeable through absence.Waiting for the creases In the sky to widen And the world to wake anew.
The leaves set to fallAs rain it’s drops do showerRelentless from the sky Free flowing torrentsFrom the banksLeaching from the fieldsStreams of orangeStain the road.A hammering on the roofThe wind it does prevailWhipping itself around the house. Lundy , Fastnet,Irish SeaThe shipping forecast read.The storm it has arrived.ToSaving lives at sea.In readiness we were not-EekingContinue reading “Shutting the Door on Summer”
the ice is melting questions and answers a lonely catechism
It’s one of those nights . What we love is the solitude of rural living . Every once in a while it’s broken by sounds : usually the cry of the barn owl or a vixen squeaking . Tonight though it’s joyriders – an unorganised rally of a great many cars racing through the lanesContinue reading “Senryu”
thoughts tumble swell the darknessvoices of the past
SilhouettesAcross a pinkish glow Gulls their silent span Mist- a crease to top The new -ploughed fieldsSculpted,the moorland land Ribbons of white in reconfigured contours Smoothing the valley floor,Steaming silage Sweet the smellHunger after more Gold of arrow,vapour trailWhat view is theirs? What view I have! A glimpse of home Midst rolling hills Nestled inContinue reading “Early Run – observations”
To run Is instinctive,The fresh air Coursing through; Finding energy Where first there is none;To tread the lanes As day is done;Though tired, to feel renewed,Spurred on by the towering clouds behind, The wind coursing in the pines Grey sky darkening Squeezing out the light; The onset of a stormy night.Yet invigorated, energised,With wind inContinue reading “Grey Sky darkening -Evening Run”