let go of responsibility the muscle whirl of stream the shading of the swirls by a sharp the holder by branch of forward motion the tiny whirlpools made by hooked roots
I see the roots opposite it is a burst spring even on a dull day the bluebells still dot and scatter, cow parsley now out a rage of leaves and green and all this movement and each and each second of raucous bird drill and shuttle releases the pulled tautness of livng – the gaping happens , the slow breathe can start – here with rain, with rain with rain doucement held off with canopy, allows the holding of one’s own mind and body and the unzip accept, loosen, drift
sat on a bluebell, am walking upstream in a fast flow stream, feeling the heldness the lilt of sound it gets so deep here, my boots would easily swell and fill and below me the mud moves like photos of Mars an entire cosmos exploding slowly into the water each step creates new worlds. I am heels back down a river bank cold slowly taking the wellingtons moonscape bottom marked wild by force I move again upstream, carrying my mudtople worlds/planets at every step if only each step contained the world like this and it does we just forget
the everyday wonder
unless we forge a path forward towards it find our wealth in this
the hair of pond weed chips and whirls to the old tree trunk as voluptuous as any woman’s hair
all around me curls and flows, no other world will do, never
I slipped through a tree!