Wednesday, 1 April 2015



Earth, oh what old secrets below you keep?

Beneath grit, where loam, the Gods secrete,

With no mind to the ancient ae´on’s shiftings,

Unaware of falling leaves, in breezes liftings.


With ear laid upon your grass-knolled breast,

I hear your sleeping seeds, at their winter rest,

New limbed roots, in their muddy stretching,

Bursting Forth, towards new spring, reaching.


Beneath dark rich soil & embraced by stones,

Sepia skulls converse, with crisp ancient bones,

With every dewdrop, upon crust, soft glistening,

The earth-life beneath us, lies silent & listening.

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