147: Morning and Evening

147 stag

First light is soft and cool across the glade, and the long grass lying like hair shimmers with its dappling of dewdrops. I am sitting cross-legged and damp, but in the corner of my sight you appear, as if purposed, a doe in the dawn, discerning my presence and deciding it is safe for us to watch one another. The wind rustles across the greening, like breath across a harmonica, and the susurration hums in my Spirit. I close my eyes.

At the end of the day I stand, still as a watching stag on the rise, antlers aglow, the golden day-death painting one side of my motionless calm. I look to the last rays, bathed in your light, slightly lift my head to smell the sky burnt with colour. What a long way we have come, from one side of the horizon to the other, and always the lush grass with us. I close my eyes.

©Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2015

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One thought on “147: Morning and Evening

  1. This is beautiful, Keren. Such a calming piece of imagery. These lines have a vibrancy all their own: “The wind rustles across the greening, like breath across a harmonica, and the susurration hums in my Spirit.” Lovely.. 🙂 x

    Like

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