A pheasant breaks cover, just above my head.
A clapping of wings, stopping me dead.
Like an arrow he flies, to the other wood bank.
I'm distracted, I pause, to him I must thank.
For now I've switched over, into the mystery I sink.
As the elements conspire, to make me just think.
The sunshine emblazons, autumn's fiery red hues.
No wind in this valley, to disrupt the clear views.
The earth starts to sing to me, its melodic song.
The water in front of me, a mirror, where I belong.
I'm in awe and in wonder, of the path of liquid gold.
Moving incrementally down river, the story unfolds.
Two swans glide so serenely, across the mill pond.
Creating ripples of silver, to which I'm most fond.
My breath is now taken, my heart in my mouth.
My chest gripped in tension, my soul shifts South.
I'm encouraged to release, to let my spirit drop.
To dive into the deep, let my thoughts go plop.
There's just me and this stillness, not to be afraid.
Just to witness the telling, the act to be played.
For now in the emptiness, a brilliance is filled.
A flash of orange and turquoise, my whole being is thrilled.
For there in the moment, a kingfisher flies forth.
Not one but there's two now, connection true North.
I'm in rapture, enthralled, in bliss, pure joy.
At one with my surroundings, in heaven, oh boy!
By Simon Blackler
Copyright © Simon Blackler 2020
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