(Hopefully) 1 Poem a week for 52 weeks |
Home Since before dawn the leaves have been whispering of departure. After yesterday's rain, a cloudless dawn brought hope and promise. The softest of breezes caressed the myriad grasses as gentle as a conscientious child might stroke a new kitten We spread our arms wide and aloft, dry now in the sunshine bright morning. Clustered together for one last time, awaiting the Zephyr breath that will cry "release" and then we shall go, rushing into the sky, scattering like snowflakes, cascading higgledy piggledy, like confetti cast joyous, heralding the new day, the new life. Torn from the nursery now, a thousand florets, ten thousand, timeless clocks fill the air and float. Float over field, path and lane, every higher passing over tree top and roof, driven onwards by the Western wind, capricious and warm lively it sends us dancing, darting, chasing in wild abandon. Till finally I fall fall onto a pavement It seems my lot to fall onto stony ground, yet the Zephyr is not quite finished with me yet A final push, and I lie in the crack between two slabs. I waste no time in sending out a root, down Down into the damp soil below. Then a shoot. I am here. Now I am established here, in my new home, my leaves will spread above, as my roots will spread below. For home is where you make it, and, perhaps, one day I shall have clocks of my own. |