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
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.