I Am Sanguine Despite

_{^{Cloud Shadows by Katja Lang}}

these being sketchy times to exist,
and yet the warp and weft of land, 
the unnoticed movement of growth
is a constancy of comfort.

A pause on a walk home
in the loneness of landscape
as all comes to pensive rest.
The day’s work was not yet done
but enough is done for now. 

Sometimes rest is the only answer.  
The heart in silence watches knowingly.
The technicolour of day 
turns to silence come dusk, 
come starry night.

Come, evening breeze, let’s walk on.
A bracing spring around the edges
a hunch-shouldered walk 
towards the warmth 
of hearth and home.

The stillness of land anchors 
the swooping of bird nomads
the terrestrial steadying the aerial,
as a wild kite in strong hands.

Good steady land.  
Good vertical grass,
trees and two-leggeds,
elements and forces
and all upward rising things.

_{^{© N Nazir 2024}}

*Thank you once again, The Ekphrastic Review. And it’s always nice to see pieces from a few fellow bloggers too. This felt like a very Monday kind of image. It got me in the mood for some pen and ink work. ✒️ 🎨

I did think about weeding the garden (I say garden, it’s more of a long rectangle of unruly ground with a much unloved shed at the end which quite often has weeds growing inside it too) but it attracts the bees so I just watched them a while and had a cup of tea instead. If I can help the bees by letting the weeds run riot, so be it. Every now and again, I do tidy up the rectangle but weeds are often so pretty, I prefer to leave them. How’s your Monday going? ☕️