Woodland

All around us

all the time

the gentle, humming earth breathes and grows and simply is

moving through life and death without fear, because this is the way things work.

There is no anxiety in a woodland

there are no what ifs; there is only what is.

These pockets of peace, these spaces where growing things are the only things, continue on whether we notice them or not

they invite us in to receive the gift of being.

Soft bluebells delight in the clearings, collectively transforming them as they grow.

Look what happens when you make space for us, they say.

We stir up wonder that had fallen asleep; we set your heart alight with gratitude.

Savour us for this season

you would grow tired of us if we were here all year

Don’t mourn us when we leave

we will be back

we will always be back