Time
Bending low under soft branches I left the path behind
Needing to feel an undiscovered place
like a child stepping beyond,
crossing the stream, scrambling the bank
without a backward glance to home.
Feeling small amidst a circle of the tallest firs
I watched the trees at play,
branches dancing and swaying,
their tender tips touching,
soothing the restless wind.
Breathing deep the damp of secret spaces
Hearing nothing but the creaking bend
and flexing of the living wood
I sank into the mossy green and let time
Enfold me.
My father, you sat with me in the clearing
And saw with me the tiny darting bird
You smelled with me the scent of coming rain
And felt the air begin to cool and change.
And as we rose and found again the path
Leading to the wide and windswept moor
I saw in the fading sun, just one shadow
and heard only my boots on the stony floor.
Wendy Bowers
27.1.19
Bending low under soft branches I left the path behind
Needing to feel an undiscovered place
like a child stepping beyond,
crossing the stream, scrambling the bank
without a backward glance to home.
Feeling small amidst a circle of the tallest firs
I watched the trees at play,
branches dancing and swaying,
their tender tips touching,
soothing the restless wind.
Breathing deep the damp of secret spaces
Hearing nothing but the creaking bend
and flexing of the living wood
I sank into the mossy green and let time
Enfold me.
My father, you sat with me in the clearing
And saw with me the tiny darting bird
You smelled with me the scent of coming rain
And felt the air begin to cool and change.
And as we rose and found again the path
Leading to the wide and windswept moor
I saw in the fading sun, just one shadow
and heard only my boots on the stony floor.
Wendy Bowers
27.1.19
