Slowly emerging from the cacoon of dieta…
Tender and slow…
The stillness reverberating, and me, rocked gently in its arms…
Unpealing my wild mind…
finding shapes hidden inside…
shapes other-than-human to occupy and old tongues flapping… Long out of use, finding their voice.
In me.
Again.
Desiring a simpler, slower, kinder, kind of life – one lived belly to earth…
In a fireside trance…
Tree tongued.
Moss haired.
Elemental composition has me questioning the position of the human and it’s imposition on the rhythm that I long to be living in…
And I can’t help wandering how we came to be in this situation and what intelligence might lie behind… Behind this decomposition?
I don’t have any answers though… I’m suspicious of them anyway.
So instead I dig my fingers into dirt and lick the bark of an ancient pine… drink a pint of lichen tea and ask to be possessed by a larger – Gaian sized mind…
And… It… Feels…
It feels…
Slooooow…
And so too do I become…
Like a lichen growing in the sun…
Slow.
Slower.
The slowest.
Deep Earth Dreaming 