Somewhere in the distance
I hear the howl of a motorcycle
weaving through the city streets
and immediately I am transported to the moors,
listening to the wind howling through the heather.

Will you dance for me?
Will you rise up and show me your beauty
so that I can see it and feel it and know it in myself?

People say that God is unfathomable
but its works are not and we are it’s finest work,
blessed with short memories and dull minds
to save us from seeing, save us from feeling
so we can bear what we have done,
but the wind and the trees,
they remember everything,
every detail.

Listen beloved ones,
it’s time you listened.

DF. 5-2-2021 1456

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