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.