Bright rays shine through the needles of the great pine,
Scattering flashes over the ground as if ripples reflected on a turbulent sea,
The cool breeze moves slowly past me,
Continuing on to gently wave the grass and wild flowers.
Resting places of long departed souls embraced by the vibrancy of nature,
Forgotten by humankind but watched over ever vigilantly by others,
A rich repertoire of stories recounting messages of love and loss,
Buried now, except to those who peek under blankets of creeping moss.
The quiet is disturbed briefly as an old Yew shakes,
A small deer ventures into the sunlight cautiously checking the air,
I watch and listen... Still... Silent...
The deer, now relaxed, begins grazing amongst the stones.
As I continue to simply 'be' here, I feel honoured to form part of the landscape,
The pace of life is shifted, slowing as our spirits touch and blend,
My human mind throwing off the shackles of time, if only briefly,
Treasuring each passing instant, I breathe and smile.
I return to the path as the deer returns to the Yew,
The crow calls a farewell and I nod in acknowledgment,
Thanking those that form the tales of our past,
Whilst I slowly drift back to my present.
Written July 2012