Green paths.

I walk on. Down a straight path 

Hawthorn hiding singing thrush 

The cold of morning 

still lurks underneath these branches 

Bird song takes me back 

Green grass, tangled brambles 

To the paths where goldfinch never 

Winged their flight, darting across to say 

Good morning. 

These woods look so much like mine

Yet this path takes a different course

Feels sacred, full of a different call

No golf course to my right but 

A vast tidal plain 

No majestic view, no best bench to sit on

But a straight green line ahead. 

Nature wrapping me in familiarity 

And yet I still travel into unknown 

Not knowing where the next step lies 

Aching for safety and known 

Where is the best place to dig down and stay? 

I don’t know 

But this green, vibrant, vibrating path 

Enfolds me, Calls me on. 

And whispers in my ear. 

You are here.

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