From Rajastan Satish came forth
\nin search
\nOf greener climes
\nThe thought of death
\nAnd regaining breath
\nThrough the seasons and the times<\/p>\n
The books he had read of England
\nAnd its green and pleasant land
\nOf course became a reality
\nThat over time has spanned<\/p>\n
All of his experience
\nhis pilgrimage of peace
\nHis church his seers so evident
\nSo much he could release<\/p>\n
The grace and beauty of the land
\nThe moor this great expanse
\nOf living breathing gaia
\nFor him a true romance<\/p>\n
The trees that leaned toward him
\nTheir closeness he could feel
\nA pilgrim of the earth
\nOf course his life force it was real<\/p>\n
The light that rolled across the earth
\nDrawing the colours true
\nA huge great canvas where in, the artist
\nGAIA’s view<\/p>\n
Is magnificently purposeful
\nCreation on a scale
\nOf wonderment embracing
\nevery elemental trail<\/p>\n
Crows speak and if we listen
\nPerchance we
\nmay just find
\nWhat is their casual cacocphony
\nHelps us to unwind<\/p>\n
As druids we are drawn into
\nthe peacefulness
\nAnd calm
\nTo be alone with Nature is never to come to harm<\/p>\n
STarlings these brave birds
\nwho take our cities
\nWhich they revere
\nUp on the high pillars
\nin London and Rome they appear<\/p>\n
And here over Dartmoor
\nTheir murmuring takes place
\nThey produce a sweep of curtain
\nA great ballet of grace<\/p>\n
Swirling this and that way
\nPatterns in the sky
\nFollowing each other
\nin a grounded lullaby<\/p>\n
The sun rise that great golden ball of fire
\nFar far away
\nThat draws the bird song into being
\nThe carrolings that sway<\/p>\n
The poet and the thinker
\nThe druid who maybe
\nWalking on a early jaunt
\nThrough Gaia’s symphony<\/p>\n
The dew upon the grass
\nThat lifts the spirit to a high
\nSpiking the olfactory nerve
\nAnd the peace and quiet and each sigh<\/p>\n
We feel and respect the seasons
\nIn the great life giving wheel
\nThe oak groves a woodpecker
\nWho is having a good deal<\/p>\n
Of exercise by boring
\nThe robin too is here
\nHe is very inquisitive
\nAnd friendly which is clear<\/p>\n
This grove demands attention
\nIts old and has clearly been
\nSoaking up the history
\nAnd the mosses too so green<\/p>\n
And the lichens oak creates
\nA home for so many other souls
\nFrom fungi insects birds a host
\nEach have their respective roles<\/p>\n
SAtish spoke of paradise
\nThis vibrant and resilient space
\nWhere wise ones come to deliberate
\nTo sit and slow their pace<\/p>\n
To draw the clean air inwards
\nAnd feel it tonify
\nAll the cells like tiny bells
\nThat we can all rely<\/p>\n
Upon we see the cuckoo
\nWe hear its tell tale voice
\nIts great striped under belly
\nA bird of extra choice<\/p>\n
Thoughts of spring eternal
\nOf transformation and
\nThe beginning of a cycle
\nRight across the land<\/p>\n
The pulsating caterpillar
\nSoon the Emperor Moth
\nWill emerge
\nas if by magic
\nOn the heather theres no dirge<\/p>\n
Just a light and gentle song choice
\nIn the great catherdral space
\nDArtmoor this great moor of life
\nWhere the River now does chase<\/p>\n
The spectrum through the winding ways
\nSuch crystal energy
\nWhite water vivacity
\nBees in the ear fly free<\/p>\n
The hum of excited creatures
\nIn search of nectar sweet
\nJust the right amount of it
\nTo clasp between their feet<\/p>\n
A true bubbling crescendo
\nLifes droplets everywhere
\nThe great matrix of living life
\nOn hand for all to share<\/p>\n
Buds with their hint of sunshine
\nA crimson kiss or two
\nThe bells now in the pasture
\nA true carpet of blue<\/p>\n
Spreading dancing melodious
\nA tonic to the eyes
\nOnward to the Hawthorn
\nTo try and realise<\/p>\n
The lovely heady
\nScent of May
\nThat fills the heart
\nEach creamy spray
\nAnd the thorns that keep
\nOur hands away<\/p>\n
The sky lark’s trill
\nIts gentle spill
\nTo will to fill
\nThat potent thrill
\nThe lark ascending
\nNever ending
\nBlake and Tennyson
\nWere defending<\/p>\n
The cuckoo being fed
\nOf course by the pippet
\nIt not done by force<\/p>\n
The magickal display we hear
\nIs gaia’s way of bringing cheer
\nBehold we see the damsel fly
\nThat great big round black silent eye<\/p>\n
Aqua marine shot metal blue
\nThat catches our eyes
\nWell it has too
\nIts been here before the dinosaur
\nAnd its colouration is more and more<\/p>\n
Beautiful which has to be
\nA miracle for us to see
\nA vixen with her cubs
\nAt play
\nFeeding them and holding sway<\/p>\n
Wise and wistful caring souls
\nTaking on their special roles
\nNo doubt aware of the hunting folk
\nThe red coated yobs who are bespoke<\/p>\n
In their caps and jodpurs
\nAnd who break the law
\nWith their baying hounds
\nAnd their game of war<\/p>\n
Wild flower garlands everywhere
\nA kestrel hovering in the air
\nThe wheel is turning all fhe while
\nFruits are falling autumn style<\/p>\n
Rutting red deer carry on
\nLeaves are changing colour
\nThey stun
\nthe eye the golds and reds
\nNatures balance is now where it heads<\/p>\n
Away from Gaia is where man stands
\nHis fearful chemicals bands and bands
\nOf sprays are killing the precious Bees
\nServants of life its where some seize<\/p>\n
The honey far more
\nthan ever they should
\nA two pronged attack
\nthat isnt good<\/p>\n
Bees are dying everywhere
\nWe all have to be more aware
\nWe all are nature
\nAUtumn and SPring
\nYule and winter
\nAnd all it does bring<\/p>\n
Death is to wave
\nthose you love goodbye
\nThe ROwans red berries
\nshow us why<\/p>\n
The great wheel turns
\nand will turn again
\nDArtmoor its oaks
\nand its sweet refrain<\/p>\n
Poem written for TINA
\nWho posted video on facebook
\nFrom Satish Kumar and his Dartmoor experience<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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 … Continue reading