I come from the earth

Scattered song serendered

To fair winds

And broken words.

My acorn earth

My forests

of green and golden myth.

I am of old blood

I am older than you will ever be

Seeded from creaking oak and

aged lore.

I am wisdom brimming

with infinite sadness.

I was born of braided gold

kept safe and told stories

Of giants and snow owls and maidens

of the otherworld

in the language of kings

I feel my heart

the thud of the ancients

the grasses and brookes

And the perilous oceans of my people -

those pagan poets.

I come from the earth.

Reething tides and endless lands

of my fair country.

My erstwhile soil

My forests of green

and golden myth.

With the coming and going of green tides

Fathomless seas where dreamers pause, awestruck

by chaos

Holding you I have forgone the pattern -

golden threaded stories,

my tentative drawings in the sand

To understand you

Patiently waiting for a sign to

break the crimson glass and set

blackbirds free upon the wind

To find yourself in the middle

of a sigh,

an outbirst of outreaching echoes

Blinking salt.

Unlocked, the copper-cage sits

tiny and bone-brittle against the ivory island

Inside it captures fragile feathers, urchin-breath,

cloudbursts and star-words,

your melodies, my moonbeams (yes)

and mermaid-hair and sea-shells

and you cannot hear the ocean

and I'm sorry

Wandering across desert rock earth amber and wild brush flames sparking oblivion dusting the wilderness  cold sun and lengthened shadows fall down to dappled sheets of cool quartz, azure treachory deepening beneath a hollow sky and hallowed tears unmarked and unmade barran bone-dry and crystalized amethysts clunking in my pocket I forget the why you once proclaimed but through the how - now finding lust and devil-dust and gazing through this vault of echoed memory this blackened borealis with ritual and skin and broken breath this lidded land is opening and I begin to understand