I let you go

I let you go

as ash falls away and

your Phoenix wings spread

in the colours of fire.

I let you go

as you taste smokeless

air as you dance,

curl, somersault

in the breeze.

I let you go

to beat your wings

to the drum of the Earth,

to swoop low

and hear

the rhythm of the trees.

I let you go

to watch your

reflection soar,

to gaze in the still

lake and

know your flames.

I let you go,

and then,

that day you come back,

I will open,

the hearth to your fire.

What the birds sing

Humans turn

the wheel,

the grind,

for money,

for status,

and then

there are those who feed the birds.

For every computer-slave

asked to do more,

hunched and typing,

output only,

there is a yogi

unbending bends,

softening shoulders,

connecting us with breath.

This morning,

thousands of birds sang

prayers to the sun.

Those who fed them heard

their names sung out

in celebration.

Guest Poet – Plant Empath

She knows how insects feel;

“Companion plants” (not weeds)-

They are welcome.

Trees are the ultimate creation:

Bold and firm, yet flowing high up

Their branches in the wind;

And talking with their neighbours

Low down in the rhizomes;

The “plant empath” talks back. She climbs

for like all of us

She is just a monkey-type mammal.

“Anything that happens

To us is meaningful.

Anything the birds do is for play.

Our guts recognise the 10,000 year old grains.

The seeds are alive!”

“Plant Empath” is written by the perceptive and talented Arwen.