Poetry

Endless Days

The wind loops around my hands

playfully

nudging me onward, carrying the scent

of unexplored forests, coastal paths and caverns,

endless fields of wheat and corn and barley, meadows

full of wild flowers, that,

if I’m honest, may just make me sneeze.

 

I can feel the peace rifling through my hair and gently resting

its soft palms against my face.

My heart beats in time with the swell of the sea,

the calls of the birds

and the leisurely flutter of butterflies completely unaware

of how much an impact their wing-beats make.

 

The scurrying of people doesn’t bother me here.

I am home,

I am home,

I am home.

Poetry

Small Cares

 

Why do you hang your head

so low, my pet?

You may only be the size

of a snow drop or crocus,

and a puddle may appear

as a small lake to you,

but why is that a sad thing?

Think of all you can

see and hear

that no other can.

Observe the flowers as they first emerge,

seek the moment they reach for the sun!

See the bees buzzing back to their homes

and help them carry their bags of pollen.

Listen to the secrets of dormice

and ask to fly on the backs of butterflies.

Sleep in the shade of a snail’s shell,

be carried by a team of worker ants.

But most of all, my pet: live!