SAtish Kumar and DARTMOOR

From Rajastan Satish came forth
in search
Of greener climes
The thought of death
And regaining breath
Through the seasons and the times

The books he had read of England
And its green and pleasant land
Of course became a reality
That over time has spanned

All of his experience
his pilgrimage of peace
His church his seers so evident
So much he could release

The grace and beauty of the land
The moor this great expanse
Of living breathing gaia
For him a true romance

The trees that leaned toward him
Their closeness he could feel
A pilgrim of the earth
Of course his life force it was real

The light that rolled across the earth
Drawing the colours true
A huge great canvas where in, the artist
GAIA’s view

Is magnificently purposeful
Creation on a scale
Of wonderment embracing
every elemental trail

Crows speak and if we listen
Perchance we
may just find
What is their casual cacocphony
Helps us to unwind

As druids we are drawn into
the peacefulness
And calm
To be alone with Nature is never to come to harm

STarlings these brave birds
who take our cities
Which they revere
Up on the high pillars
in London and Rome they appear

And here over Dartmoor
Their murmuring takes place
They produce a sweep of curtain
A great ballet of grace

Swirling this and that way
Patterns in the sky
Following each other
in a grounded lullaby

The sun rise that great golden ball of fire
Far far away
That draws the bird song into being
The carrolings that sway

The poet and the thinker
The druid who maybe
Walking on a early jaunt
Through Gaia’s symphony

The dew upon the grass
That lifts the spirit to a high
Spiking the olfactory nerve
And the peace and quiet and each sigh

We feel and respect the seasons
In the great life giving wheel
The oak groves a woodpecker
Who is having a good deal

Of exercise by boring
The robin too is here
He is very inquisitive
And friendly which is clear

This grove demands attention
Its old and has clearly been
Soaking up the history
And the mosses too so green

And the lichens oak creates
A home for so many other souls
From fungi insects birds a host
Each have their respective roles

SAtish spoke of paradise
This vibrant and resilient space
Where wise ones come to deliberate
To sit and slow their pace

To draw the clean air inwards
And feel it tonify
All the cells like tiny bells
That we can all rely

Upon we see the cuckoo
We hear its tell tale voice
Its great striped under belly
A bird of extra choice

Thoughts of spring eternal
Of transformation and
The beginning of a cycle
Right across the land

The pulsating caterpillar
Soon the Emperor Moth
Will emerge
as if by magic
On the heather theres no dirge

Just a light and gentle song choice
In the great catherdral space
DArtmoor this great moor of life
Where the River now does chase

The spectrum through the winding ways
Such crystal energy
White water vivacity
Bees in the ear fly free

The hum of excited creatures
In search of nectar sweet
Just the right amount of it
To clasp between their feet

A true bubbling crescendo
Lifes droplets everywhere
The great matrix of living life
On hand for all to share

Buds with their hint of sunshine
A crimson kiss or two
The bells now in the pasture
A true carpet of blue

Spreading dancing melodious
A tonic to the eyes
Onward to the Hawthorn
To try and realise

The lovely heady
Scent of May
That fills the heart
Each creamy spray
And the thorns that keep
Our hands away

The sky lark’s trill
Its gentle spill
To will to fill
That potent thrill
The lark ascending
Never ending
Blake and Tennyson
Were defending

The cuckoo being fed
Of course by the pippet
It not done by force

The magickal display we hear
Is gaia’s way of bringing cheer
Behold we see the damsel fly
That great big round black silent eye

Aqua marine shot metal blue
That catches our eyes
Well it has too
Its been here before the dinosaur
And its colouration is more and more

Beautiful which has to be
A miracle for us to see
A vixen with her cubs
At play
Feeding them and holding sway

Wise and wistful caring souls
Taking on their special roles
No doubt aware of the hunting folk
The red coated yobs who are bespoke

In their caps and jodpurs
And who break the law
With their baying hounds
And their game of war

Wild flower garlands everywhere
A kestrel hovering in the air
The wheel is turning all fhe while
Fruits are falling autumn style

Rutting red deer carry on
Leaves are changing colour
They stun
the eye the golds and reds
Natures balance is now where it heads

Away from Gaia is where man stands
His fearful chemicals bands and bands
Of sprays are killing the precious Bees
Servants of life its where some seize

The honey far more
than ever they should
A two pronged attack
that isnt good

Bees are dying everywhere
We all have to be more aware
We all are nature
AUtumn and SPring
Yule and winter
And all it does bring

Death is to wave
those you love goodbye
The ROwans red berries
show us why

The great wheel turns
and will turn again
DArtmoor its oaks
and its sweet refrain

Poem written for TINA
Who posted video on facebook
From Satish Kumar and his Dartmoor experience