no art to this
no art to this
When the way seems blocked remember theres always a way through…
dead baby Seal at high water mark
somethings going wrong out at sea
somethings wrong with Earth
a balance has been lost
there’s more of us
and we want more
and our neighbours
we share this place with
are losing out
meanwhile we plunge off the cliff.
Walking through a Welsh Rainforest this morning where my children played throughout thier childhoods and part of the reason they are the special people they are! Its a woodland that’s an SSSE but with Climate Warming for how much longer…
Cae’r Blaidd or ‘field of the wolf’.
The last wolf died in this place
but the hour of the wolf remains
and the wolves call for us, call for you
calling haunting us with their calling
calling for us over and over again
It is the time when we cross over
as some people say of the passing away
in the early hours when coldness
an imperceptible drop in temperature
loosens our will, loosens our grip on life
and the wolf crosses with us too
it has nowhere else to go after all.
A time we no longer speak of
the easing of souls young and old
the hour of the wolf remains taboo.
It is a way with our family at this time
that we sit in vigil, a candle burning
talk of remembrance, of memories
of life and the sadness of leaving.
But whatever we say the wolf remains
at the door until our time comes too.
And the wolf patiently waits for the hour,
waits at the door to call as it must do.
Published in The Learned Pig 2017