• The Faerytale Apothecary

Song of the Land


What is there when you pay attention?

Not to the big

But to the small

The underfoot

The quiet

What would it be like to sing to this?

Sing to the Earth?

Really sing to it

Face kissing the grass and the mud

Sing just for the joy of the relationship

Can we quieten enough to hear the song that responds?

Can we take ourselves away from the Human Made?

Back to where we belong

This Song of the Land

Fallen leaves want to sing secrets into us

Sing like a sweet lullaby into our gentle ears

Does it matter which ear we listen with?

What of the sharp touch of the thorn?

Could it be embraced as a lovers caress?

And the Shoemaker Elf that lives in the Oak Tree

Hidden from our view

Busy nonetheless

All this that exists behind our watching

How does it feel to not have our gaze cared for?

“We have stories for you. If you will still enough to listen” the Winds call

It’s amazing we can miss them at all

So loud do they blast about us

When we stop

Stop to receive

Our breath only has to meet theirs in the merest show of “Tell Me”

Then the clever clarity of a distant bell can strike through

Then the tales of Northern Lands find us

A small girl

Taking the even smaller fishing boat

Out on her own for the first time

The Winds carry of this to our waiting bodies

Her fear of Wood and Water

Meets ours of the Horse we so desperately want to follow

And suddenly we know

Just as the Birds know

The Birds have always known

We are one big story

Perfectly aligned

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