Blog
The language of nature
Monday 26th February 2024
Mike Mullins
I sat by the old Rowan tree
in the evening gloaming.
Blue dome arcing over the meadow.
Birdsong rinsed and rung my heart.
Distant laughter rode back in waves along the brook
.
Short of breath,
fatigue invited me to pause and rest
and drink in nature's balm.
Hazel entwined with Rowan before me,
like ecstatic, writhing, lovers.
My soul bowed.
The all joy-filled, dancing, laughing irrepressible fecundity of the beyond.
"I take on all forms" she whispered to me below the gentle breeze
"and give all being life, through love. Know the language of nature and you know me"