On Water xxvii

bent double by grief

sadness enough to birth rivers

path shadowed by tears

~

CLP 04/05/2021

On Branches

Above these thick limbs

the canopy frame prepares

to harvest sunlight

~

CLP 18/03/2021

On Time

Evening light returns

fills the gaps between trees

branches unfurl leaves

~

n.b. There was still light in the sky after 17:30h on Monday evening. Everyday we move forward a little more.

~

CLP 01/03/2021

L3 (Day 53): On Treetops

In majestic beeches

corvids settle on where to nest

on who will take the crown

before the opening of calyx

~

CLP 28/02/2021

On Movement

We hold form by day

take different shapes at night

twisted by our dreams

~

CLP 22/02/2021

On Frosted Ground

Deep howl of winter

trees low like birthing cattle

flakes of frozen tears

~

CLP 07/02/2021

L3 (Day 30): Betula Pendula

Along with buddleja, the silver birch, (betula pendula) is often the first tree to set down roots and become established in the most unlikely situations. It grows fast and its white bark seems to split under the stress of holding the slender trunk together as it shoots up. It quickly becomes a tree of ornamental interest, with its beautifully shaped, serrated leaves, that turn from soft green to shimmering autumn gold before being shed.

Its adaptability and aesthetic appeal makes it an attractive specimen to plant when landscaping newly developed building plots in temperate climates.

Even a tree so slight in appearance brings a sense of permanence to a location. It breaks up the urban landscape, provides colour and natural shade in summer. Its leaves play with the light, like the sea, they dance to the vicissitudes of the weather and in winter their absence allows what light and warmth there is to pass through.

In contrast I sense that I have lived my recent years as if I am a tumbleweed.

Wikipedia states: A tumbleweed is a structural part of the above-ground anatomy of a number of species of plants, a diaspore that, once it is mature and dry, detaches from its root or stem, and rolls due to the force of the wind.

This windblown existence is how the plant distributes its seed and reproduces. I do not see any correlation between my life and this aspect of the tumbleweed life cycle, but the detachment at the point of ‘maturity’, the hollowed out centre and endless shifting on the breath of a breeze is me and this cannot continue.

For a wanderer like me, the idea of being able to adjust and settle and make a home is to be respected, but is it possible? Can a tumbleweed become a silver birch?

~

CLP 04/02/2021

On Trees

When this wind blows

Things sound different

After the leaves have dropped

To mosaic the floor.

~

This wind bends through the bared boughs

Divides to draughts between the trunks

Blows low notes from the wood

Makes this place an instrument

For mournful tunes

~

When we hear this hollow overture

Howling from beeches and birches

We can be certain winter approaches

~

CLP 27/10/2020

On Trees

Your towel is slipping

Each breath of cool breeze reveals

Stark inner beauty

~

CLP 19/10/2020

On Trees

Gorged on ripe crop

Drowsy wasps crawl through orchard

Expectant boughs ache

~

CLP 13/09/2020