Changes

I could speak of crisp mornings
And coloured leaves
Of seasons changing
And autumn wreaths

I could speak of cold winds
And gossamer
Of rain caressing my skin
And barren tree-trunks columnar

But I want to sing a song to you instead
A song you might not have heard quite yet
It may have hummed in the back of your head
But not clearly enough to for you to get

It’s a song of freedom
A song of letting go
Do like the trees
Embrace autumn’s flow

Shed what doesn’t serve you
habits, shame, guilt, foes
Forgive yourself
For whatever your woes

Forgive the perpetrator
For their weak soul
Forgive circumstance
For lessons outwith your control

Understand that life
Is a myriad of shards
The sharp edges
Can sometimes pierce your heart

But shards also have
Smooth surfaces–more so
And reflect who you are
Your soul and your turso

Embrace all the wrinkles
The pimples the scars
Embrace all your light
Your love and your wars

You have fought well
But now stop and breathe
And let your sword fall
Take a break and retrieve

The dark time’s a coming
The long nights dark and smooth
Look into the mirror
And see your own truth

Take time out for healing
Take time out for joy
Take time out for self-care
You are in your own employ

I don’t have to

I don’t have to tread carefully now
Because the monster sleeps
I don’t have to worry now
Because my words will be misused
I don’t have to loose sleep now
Because I won’t be interrogated

I can breathe now
Because there is air again
I can dance now
Because there is space again
I can be happy now
Because the shackles have gone
I can be creative now
Because the judgement was taken
I can be productive now
Because my brain stopped worrying

I don’t have to hide my strength now
Because you would punish
I don’t have to hide my smarts now
Because you felt threaten
I don’t have to hold back now
Because you would say no

I can imagine again
I can create again
I can be productive again
I can draw my sword and fight dragons again
I can support again
I can dance again

I am free

The neighbours cut our trees in half

Grief in green
Forlorn you stand
Still tall
But only half your beauty

The neighbours thought you messy

Your brother
Mutilated last year
In agony send pilot shoots
Across the garden
10 meters away in hope
Of survival

Or garden is like the opening
Of Asterix and Obelix

One small village of indomitable Gauls still holds out against the invaders.

Asterix and Obelix

A green oasis
Amidst baren order
Tidy boredom without bees
Grashalms stand at attention

No Regrets

I didn’t know how beautiful the mountains were
On whose feet I spend the night
Only now–looking from afar
Can I see their height
Can I see their beauty

That’s life so often
We are too close
To see the bigger picture

Only visible from a distance

So be gentle with yourself
Your decisions can only be based
On what you know at the time
That small piece you can see
Right there
Right then

No regrets!
Only the way forward
Your life is now
Not then

Wild Camping

A kaleidoscope of cascading ridges
As above
So below

An imperceptible breeze
Gently moves the silvery surface
Ever so slightly distorting the twinning hills
A liquid mirage

It is late August
So late the woods smell of autumn

Mother pine is our host today
The tend pitched within her embracing roots
Clinging to the shoreline

I feel salvaged anyway
The sap moves tangibly below my sleeping matt
Branches above shelter from immediate sun or rain
The moon hangs like a windchime between two pine trunks
Despite the morning light

Tranquility distracts me for a moment
From all the things I should be doing instead

Echo

I am the sole bearer of my guidon

No other has the same colours

‘Each Man is an island.’

You say.

‘But the ocean connects you all.’

‘Wee dafty!’

I am walking alone lost in time and space
On the quest for my story

A voice from the wilderness calls
An echo rises from deep within
Answering the call
And the voice stops
No more echo pilot home

Home within
Home outwith
Where
When

Can you ever truly arrive?
Isn’t the point the journey?

‘I am an island’
You insist.
‘Then why do you hold a paddle?’

Binge watching ‘Dark’ on Netflix was probably not a good idea.

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