A Skip and a Hop: A Series of Walks
The wood grows kinder as we walk,
then noticing begins: bright leaf, a cobweb catches light.
The sun this time of year shines slant
down from the right, the columned trees
drawn straight with leaf-filled hollows,
then turn a bend to find one bush ablaze,
side lit, illuminated as by an angel.
Birds sing, twigs snap, cones tumble through.
Wrapped about by trees, walk on,
step over roots, breathe wooded air,
until the furrowed field, with its beech spinney full of gold.
To walk beside a small girl who is happy
is a joy, how she dances – skip, hop, bound.
I wonder when we began not to skip?
There she goes – high step, half step, skip.
The great thing about a labyrinth is,
it’s not a puzzle or a tricky path at all,
but a single quiet path, in and out,
a labyrinth is where one can be found.
No shortcuts, but to enjoy the sacred walk.
I walk out on each full moon, for a year,
walking, taking photographs, getting lost,
these take the form of pilgrimages as a vow
to keep the connection through observations.
Walking forward becomes linked to trust,
returning again to the fall of breath.
It is the breath alone that signals hope,
that life is here, continuous.
After a long walk, feeling sad, return to find
someone has left a flower on the windscreen,
random kindness tucked there, the heart fills.
It takes little to change the movement of the tide.
photograph and poem Rose Cook
from Notes From A Bright Field – Rose Cook available http://www.culturedllama.co.uk