the field knows me
keeps coming to my mind
like the wind’s mouth
exhaling the delicacies of the past
inhaling the electricity of time
the field is permanent
the mole under my left breast
the inflammation in my finger joints
let’s recall the land
the land that held the field
when every place else
was clutched in a fist
the field was there and I never went in it
I never heard its calming whispers
I never saw its open arms – polygonum aviculare
its rooted hands – plantago lanceolata
buckhorn and knotweed – waiting
but here it is
a vivid space in the rugged landscape of my past
compelling me to remember
the field knows me
the wealth of extensions
calamagrostis x acutiflora
miscanthus sinensis strictus
family members gathering to protect
grounded in witness
this field loves me
holds my maiden
sways my woman
will howl with my crone
imagine! that kind of love…
At today’s #morningcoffeesessions (Firefly Creative Writing), we were prompted about our relationship with the land. What a divine path to travel down…I will write more on this topic…Thank you Chris!
Today the land around me is wet, taking in more rain. I’ve never seen the grass so green. The trees so fat with leaves. Nature is reviving before my eyes. I will admit that I leaves on trees are some of my favourite things. I look at the sky a lot and seeing it held up with a collar of vibrant, plump tree tops…takes my breath away.
How do trees make you feel?
It’s Friday. Things are beginning to shift inside the sac that is a pandemic. I’m feeling…uncomfortable at times…worried…cautious…unsure. Kinda how I felt at the beginning of this experience…but a different shade of it. I am reminded to breathe and focus on gratitude by a strong woman. I am compelled to laugh by my daughter. Each morning begins with a long embrace with my husband. There is much to be grateful for.
The new moon rises to its place today at 5:40pm. If you remember…send out some intentions guided by the words ‘I know’…
Be kind. Be grateful. Laugh.
One thought on “The Field #morningcoffeesessions”
Great post and poem. You and I still feel about the same as we did when we Zoomed.
Hope you’re not under water like neighboring Mich.
Hugs, but virtual. Mark
Dictated or typed (inaccurately) on my iPhone. Tout va bien.