If we saw the brain
As an elaborately folded flower
Containing thought bees
Nestling among the petals
Searching for nectar
We might think of the soul
As the roots of that flower
Drawing nutrients from the river mud.
Inspired by the phrase “lily-minds” in Elegies by Kathleen Ossip.
Once, you could hear
Sheep munching grass
Half a mile away.
Now the soundscape
Is full of mechanical sounds:
Auditory assault.
We have lost the music of the world:
Birdsong, animal sounds
The wind in the trees.
Birds have to sing louder
To be heard over the sound of cars.
Whale song is interrupted by ships.
The singing will never be done,
But no one can hear it when
we have lost the music of the world.
Yvonne Aburrow
8:19 am, 2 May 2022
It was May Morning this morning and all the Morris dancing made the Sun come up.
But wouldn’t it have come up anyway, I hear you ask.
For the answer to that question, Terry Pratchett had an answer, in The Hogfather, where the sun will not rise unless the Hogfather rides safely home.
Continue readingTwilight. Betwixt. Liminal.
The setting sun
Making an archway
Through the trees
A window to infinity.
Things half-seen
In the mazy places.
Not sure where this path goes.
Maybe through, or within.
Some hollow place.
The half-light transforms
Known into unknown.
The woods drift between.
Trees asleep,
Nocturnal animals stirring.
Shadows gather.
Time stretches out,
Ready to pounce.
One star. Night’s eye.
Colours drain away.
Everything waits
For moonrise,
To flood the woods
With silver.
Yvonne Aburrow
8:15 am, 29 April 2022
Inspired by the phrase “into the twilight woods” in Iowa City: Early April by ROBERT HASS
See the world as a rabbit sees it.
Wide angle view,
Not straight ahead
As a predator sees,
But sidelong, as prey animals see.
Long shadows,
Tall grass.
Noting every hiding place.
Ready to bolt
At the first sign
Of predators.
Each breath taken
Short and shallow.
Darting from shelter
To shelter.
Grass here,
Lettuce there.
Sun is warm,
Earth is kind.
Yvonne Aburrow
7:50 am, 28 April 2022
Inspired by the phrase “three large rabbit-breaths of air” in the poem My Weather by Jane Hirshfield
None of the poems I read today
Spoke into the depths
Nor raised an answering echo.
Petrarch, Chaucer, Donne,
Whispering their plaints into the soft air
Fell to earth, drifting ash.
Nonetheless I wrote this,
To record the ensuing silence.
Yvonne Aburrow
27 April 2022
The low cosmic hum
Of all the stars
singing the worlds into being.
Who can know the thoughts of a star,
Or how they compose
The music of the spheres?
What faults might stars commit
That they fall to earth
A bolt from the infinite,
Becoming finite, massy?
If they look upon the pale blue dot
And hear the tumult,
Do they not complain
Of the marring of their music?
Or is the discordant theme
Woven into the greater music?
Yvonne Aburrow, 8:00 am, 26 April 2022
Inspired by the line “The uncomplaining stars composed their lucid song” in Voltaire at Ferney by W H Auden (1939). With a nod to the retired stars Ramandu and Coriakin in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C S Lewis, and the music of the Ainur in JRR Tolkien’s The Silmarillion. And of course, a nod to Carl Sagan’s awesome meditation, The Pale Blue Dot, which was inspired by this photograph.
Roots pushing down
Into the dark earth
To find the mother.
A tendril of incense smoke
Seeking the stars.
Sparks from the fire
Riding the currents of air,
Winking out in the night.
Water threading its way
Through caves
Ready to be reborn
Into the light.
Love finding its way
Through the cracks
In the pavement.
A hand extended
To caress or bless.
Reaching for the sun.
The heart’s rhythms
Exploring the depths
Of the underworld.
A thread of gold
Snaking through the clouds
Of the unknown.
Inspired by the phrase “the line of prayer” in Some feel rain by Joanna Klink
If you hold a shell up to your ear
Then you can hear
The oceans in your blood.
If you stand or sit or lie
Then you can feel
The earth’s crust in your bones.
If you focus on your breath,
Then you can sense
The air that gives us life.
If you touch your belly’s curve
Then you caress
The fire that lives within.
If you know that these are sacred
Then your body knows
You are the Earth and the Earth is you.
Without the oceans, trees,
And birds and bees,
There is no Earth, there is no me.
The Earth is sacred,
The Earth gives us life
There is no planet B.
Yvonne Aburrow
7:20 am, 22 April 2022 (Earth Day)
Inspired by the phrase “I am the Earth and the Earth is me” in Earth Day by JANE YOLEN.
Just out of the corner
Of your conscious mind
Something lurks in the shadows:
A half forgotten memory
Surfacing from below.
A shark or a whale
Sliding through dark water.
The mountain of a lost continent,
Land of make-believe
And childhood imaginings,
Or some drowned feeling
Covered in seaweed.
Not quite reachable,
Not quite visible,
But it leaves a trace
As it heaves through
The dark oily water.
Yvonne Aburrow (8:28 am, 21 April 2022)
Inspired by the phrase “submerged peaks” in Great Ships
by ADAM ZAGAJEWSKI
translated by CLARE CAVANAGH
Dowsing for Divinity 