Full blown summer: by one o’clock, the early morning mist;
has burnt away.
We’ve taken our jackets off;
are walking into a nascent summers day;
leaving behind the untidy house and undone tasks.
The trees are glorious, full leaved,
the hedges bright and shadowed golden green;
the meadows blaze with buttercups, and pathways thick with nettle
meadowsweet and beech; and fields of blue green wheat.
Cow parsley, campion, fern and sorrel, tangled hedgerows of
beech and honey suckle.
Linden and poplar, small and great oaks,
the last horse chestnuts fading flowers, sweet litter on the paths.
Past Limpsfield, Redhill, Godstone, Edenbridge and Hever.
We follow the beckoning road into the heart of summer.
Next day, I wake up to a rain soaked world,
the window white and grey, with a small sadness pummeling
at my heart; dreams of my long lost sister.
At the station a sonorous bell
tolls as we wait; as if it’s counting out
all our remaining days;
I gaze at cascades of green as we glide past; peppered with elderflower trees;
saucers of creamy flowers, a myriad brooches on their green dresses.
Every day life tries to teach me the same lesson ~
I want to hold on, grasp on to something;
gently, I’m told:
… let go, my child, let go, my child
you are held safely in the world,
‘underneath are the everlasting arms.’
Again, as I glance through the windows,
the fulsome trees are burgeoning with leaves,
and sea green depths, and glinting light.
Above them, jigsaw clouds, a summer sky of blue and white.
And the branches are gently waving and swaying,
calling me to come outside, come outside, come away from
the labyrinth of mind.
© IDF Andrew<>HeartsSong