Floating( A Poem for Midsummer)

Some words that arrived
in the library 10 minutes
ago.

A feather lands softly
upon a wave caught by a fierce wind,
turns into many trees with flowing branches
beyond the warm breeze of terror..

Offers no explanation
follow's earth's ripple,
delivers hope, beyond anger
caused by dark murderous intent..

Sweet invocations
of mystery and mischief
flowing with the scent of memory,
a distant hum, a consistent drum.

Catching breath, unravelling thought
treading softly among inner sanctuary
hiding from danger, finding portions of calm
some kind of nourishment, before tomorrows storm.

The times are hard, and the land lies dark
but a hungry sap will always rise
there are old traditions that carry the truth of seasons
in tandem with the longing of present reason.

Paradise does not need to be lost
each day we make is tailor made,
Albion, Gwalia it's fragrance sweet,
calling, calling, calling.