Please don’t ask me about the Shake in my hands, The kicks of my legs The pain behind my eyes. What keeps me In these beds, these chairs... What made me scream in my sleep In those first years...
Ask me how I feel When I see a buzzard fly low Scaling the fields with its beauty. Ask me how I feel when I see a kingfisher Trail blue beauty on a grey day.
Ask me how mossy rivers Still weave a path Around my heart. I Feel their flow still, from here.
Ask me how I feel When my fragile body Sits beside them In those precious moments Held high against the grey.
Ask me how I feel When blackbirds At dusk promise beauty Scythed feather calls From the dark.
Ask me how I feel When the shadows move the hills When light shapes the dark When the old gods call in Winter winds.
Ask me how I feel When I capture their image On a sensor, when my Heart soars with the swallows.