The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea. Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone. Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves...
extract from the poem Koi by John Burnside All afternoon we've wandered from the pool to alpine beds and roses ...
Hello everyone who follows David King (My Father). On behalf of the family this post is to let you know that Dad sadly passed away, peacefu...
It all depends, you see, how you go about it. And that I cannot tell you, for that will be dictated by you and by you knowing your friends...
What makes us suppose that only the living grieve? Now all but lost in this new and familiar world of tall, leaning-together buildings...
Wednesday, 6 March 2013
A moment to savour.
I would have noticed it
had it been there before:
the small gap in the hedge
and the beginnings of a track
that runs off to the left.
The hedge is dogwood
and wild privet, drenched
with old man's beard.
And there are more
whose names I do not know.
An ancient hedge, to have
such wide variety.
Something or someone's forced
a new way through the hedge.
I follow suit,
snagging coat and trousers
as I go. Clearer now,
the track beyond.
It opens out.
Two could walk abreast,
but only just.
The path seem ancient, too;
is deeply grooved
into the chalk.
Millennia of feet,
perhaps, have ground it in.
The land on either side
slopes gently down;
was wooded once, now
sending trip wires
for the careless
across the path.
I watch my step.
I reach a stream,
the path turns, follows it.
And then the moment comes:
a cloud of butterflies
rise up from somewhere near
my feet. I am engulfed
by them, and by an icy,
Pale and transparent in
the weak sun, fluttering
their eerie light
they move with me, follow
for a while, then vanish
as suddenly as they
had first appeared.
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What a great idea! I love it. Simple and lovely article.
That fraction of a beat when magic happens.
nice....how cool....arent you glad you followed that path...and got caught up in that moment of magic...have had a similar experience...it was not butterflies...but similar...thanks for taking me back there....smiles...
a perfect title for this piece. I savoured every moment.
Lovely - it feels like a dream really. k.
Oh how wonderful, Dave!
I was with you every step of the way on this adventure beyond the ancient hedge.
And I, too, was englfed in that icy ethereal blueness.
I loved every moment of this vivid adventure!:)
I want to walk that path Dave - very much.
Those moments, even though fleeting, are worth their weight in gold (or wings!) Nice write today, Dave.
Utterly transporting, magical - thanks :-)
Beautiful coincidence yes, your poem and mine finishing with a disappearance. This hedge" drenched with an old man's beard" and "millennia of feet" is just sublime.
Wow! That is really beautiful Dave. I had an experience with lady bugs that was like that. It is a mystical thing. Makes one hold their breath in amazement.
Once in a field of tall grass I saw yellow butterflies rise up on mass, shift and drop back to the grass. It was quite spectacular.
This is a lovely poem.
I already understood that you, too were one who found the secret opening in the garden wall that leads from the common path to a more ancient one. In my heart I call you Brother
ALOHA from Honolulu
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Words especially in a poem are so suitable to capture such moment. Very impressionable.
Sounds like a walk with the faeries, David...but hopefully you came back to the same time and place, if a slightly different you than the one who left.
Oooh and aaah. That was simply magical. Thanks Dave.
Thanks for visiting and thanks for saying.
Great thought. Thanks for it.
Very glad I did, yes. It was a real Haiku moment and is very vivid still.
Thanks for saying so. Really good to hear.
True. The butterfly moment was very dreamlike, and sometimes seems so when I recall it.
Great to have had you along. So good to know that you responded so. Thanks for saying.
The Weaver of Grass
Mmmm, thanks for saying so, but I did do it again, and it was not the same...
To some extent, I suppose it's their fleeting nature that helps to make them so.
Thank yo so much for this.
I find it very gratifying that you should have picked out these two phrases.
Thanks for this, Linda. I agree with you that these experiences can be mystical. They take that sort of hold on you.
That is quite definitely the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long while. I do deeply thank you for it.
Thank you. Good to know you think so.
It's a thought - one I had not had, I must admit - that I might not have done!
The Elephant's Child
And thank you - so much!
Really very nice poetry. I was searching for this kind of poem and finally in find it here. Really thanks a lot for sharing this.
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