The Space…

Wild Atlantic Way

Today I will watch the rain
falling on the pavement,
a sheen of light
surrounding shadow.
I will look at the open gate,
see it as a way in.
I will watch flames in the stove
consume the gathered scripts
I need to burn free.
Today I will imagine the world
through another’s eyes.
I will probably get it wrong.
I will forgive myself.
Today I will observe
the green on a small hill
among yellow, dead grass,
a grey sky leaning over it,
a path among briars.
I will look and not judge.
Today I will see a winter tree
through raindrop pearls,
follow its fawn trunk
to the place it enters the ground,
think of its roots
stretching out for source,
to create leaves again
when the time to flourish begins.
Today I will treasure
the gift of presence
through rain, wind or hail,
and again tonight,
whether moonlit or black
even if the Pole Star
is hidden in cloud
when doubt hangs around
at the crossroads.

Anne O’Connell