Light

River Frome, Griffin Mill, 30/03/26

This morning the heart feels heavy;
both the struggle to orient myself -
who am I and need to be? - and the lead weight of lunacy
hanging off the ankles of We The Humans,
locked into cycles of violence and threats of violence,
imagining in a mad, drunken fug that peace will grow in their wake;

I swing into the car park
with people filing to the gym,
to get their tyres changed, rummage antiques,
to the packing warehouses, the shops, me to my work studio;
and tuck into the very top corner space
nestling at the crook of River
where millstream and channel converge.

I am only there a moment when a pair of goldcrests
ripple through the trees, barely a whisper,
a helix of lightness.

Carrying no answers
and all of the answers.