By your leave

In fine morning fettle and without so much as a by your leave,

she left.

Early to rise she'd been, with a clear head, a full heart

and sunshine winding through her soul

towards her eyes.

Always in wild revolt against herself 

sleep was never of too much concern,

like a bairn with beginners eyes

she'd see in the almost-light-now's

as if each were precious possibilities

too curious to pass up.

And she thrived

as if defying sleep brought with it a shortcut

to different clarities and vibrations.
She'd stay you know if she could
and find the best in that
too.

How cruel the wisdom of understanding

and aching the song of the second fiddle
the sign that offered and the questions that answered
as my gut lays silent and still

It could simply be the absence of warning
an intuitive 'continue your path'
notice what darts between shadows
move with grace betwixt worlds in the dark

I'm hearing inaudible syllables
uttered unknowingly by the minds of the hive
I know what I want for my soul-growth
and I fear flaws if I ignore what I've heard

I will hold my own light as a treasure
to be seen and cherished as such
need I really mind I don't go timidly here
or will complexities still prove too much

Like the doe in a glade of sunbeams
for now I'll graze but acutely aware
of the things I'm chewing and churning
I don't want to turn tail and run scared.

My potential is exponential
this could be beautiful unique effervescent
but who-so-ever I go it is paramount I know
that this is no curse of self-fated obsolescence.

 

 

Nothing nor no one embraces

quite like She of the woods

no matter your leave of absence

she'd hug you as hard as she could

Her meadows would lovingly hold you

and with tenderness bear all your weight

your return would be hailed and honoured

always just right and never too late

Though everything has kept on a-turning

the seasons and all life within

you could swear with each breeze

comes a laughing tease

so glad that you've stepped back in

Like the dearest of friends reunited

each are one but both of the same clay

with your shoulders release and the beat of your feet

pick up times banished now play!

Ah she knew, she knew

the storm in a tea cup she needed to brew

brew for the feeding

her triskelion's needing. 

 exactly which view of which field from where 

the pages, the book, the breeze through her hair 

just the right music to wash right the way through

exactly which foods and from which gods they grew.