an unravelling

I let go,
drop to the ground,
a light falling, here,
here I will land.
Until now I have been hovering,
wings beat from flying over land
and sea, land and sea, but
land I did not,
feathers panting,
the landing ready
waiting, but landing
had to wait –
for what? an
invitation? the right
one? moments come,
gone, passed over in the hovering
holding height,
watching, moments
wasted waiting
to be ready
to be here
so to come to earth as one,
not fall in pieces,
dreams and ideas scattering
lost with my direction
until now,
when I let go, float
gently to earth
into breath
to where I am.

I was going to write more about the context of this poem, written at nitekirk when, after a song, a poem, more poems and candlelight, an installation of thousands of hand made beads hanging in a dark room, weaving, weaving, I unravelled, or the knots within at least, and I found myself feeling at home, whether in place or Spirit or both I'm not sure yet … and there I have, after all, told the story. 


Heather said…
Home: it's a big place.
Katie Munnik said…
So very glad to read this.
sarah said…
thank you Katie - for the comment, and for the space

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