The Tree

© Copyright Colin Kinnear and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence

© Copyright Colin Kinnear and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence

Dreams often link us to the deepest insights of our own minds and for me they are an inspirational muse. The imagery they leave in my mind on awakening sometimes stirring deep spiritual longings, connections and relationships with the Gods, Wights and Ancestors.  Are they a call…? A message…? A shout in my direction…?

Here is one such example of an imprint made on my mind last evening…

The Tree

The rasping call of a raven cuts through the misty air,
A sodden foot purposefully steps in front of a sodden foot,
Wet crystal droplets float in the air and cling to his face and plaited beard,
Looking up with a single eye, he breaths deep as the branches of a great tree appear through the fog.

Leaves rustle and bark creaks knowingly against bark on his approach,
A light seems to flash in his eye as he looks upward,
No sign of an end to the tree’s height,
It’s form disappearing into the grey expanse.

Holding a spear in one hand, he bends,
Placing his hand flat on the ground at the base of the colossal trunk,
A deep thud penetrates the air, the mist curling outward from the trees,
A deep vibrating hum emanates from below as roots respond to his touch.

Voices from below,
Voices from above,
Voices from within, without and around,
His voice, speaking to himself and sending a message through the tree,
Their voices from every inch of trunk, branch, leaf and root join in the words,
We listen, we learn, we do, we are…

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