​Hanging in Compton Hanger

​Hanging in Compton Hanger
looking,
feeling
yet unknowing
silence opens eyes to the vista.

walking lightly as the feather on the breath
gently,
lightly on earth’s broken crust
trees remind of fallen hero’s grounded
seed heads abundance ripened.
my breath
my soul
exhilarated
still
movement compels, forward moral
breath cutting through the cold ramet of winter.


the green land becoming greener, sap rising
Ivy clinging
climbing up spent wood. Stump, bygone of mortal’s plans


Grass moist to touch,
spiky,
blunt,
stile hewed by past pilgrim’s touch
barrier,
a stopping place,
reflective,
moving forward,
past the knowing into the unknowing

into the peaceful knowing