🌱 Blue Sheen of Moon

Kissing the Earth #22

Number 22 of our month of nature poems - read about the challenge here & read the other poems here.

Photo by Stacie Clark

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In Tall Grass

Bees and a honeycomb in the dried head of a horse in a pasture corner—a skull in the tall grass and a buzz and a buzz of the yellow honey-hunters.       

And I ask no better a winding sheet
                             (over the earth and under the sun.) 

Let the bees go honey-hunting with yellow blur of wings in the dome of my head, in the rumbling, singing arch of my skull.     

Let there be wings and yellow dust and the drone of dreams of honey—who loses and remembers?—who keeps and forgets? 

In a blue sheen of moon over the bones and under the hanging honeycomb the bees come home and the bees sleep.

~ Carl Sandburg

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You can’t go far in nature without stumbling upon death.

Rotting leaves. Feathers. Fallen petals.

How would it be to open yourself up to the wisdom of death? What gifts might nature be offering you?

Go gently,
Satya 💚

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Featured piece: Today’s piece is a personal one from

Claire Venus

, owner of

Sparkle on Substack

(for folk who want to improve their Substacks) and

Creatively Conscious by Claire Venus

(thoughts and process on personal creativity, the slow lived life, motherhood, earth keeping, work/ life balance and spirituality). Over to Claire!

🌎

Kissing the Earth under Cherry Tree Blossom
By Claire Venus 

(for LSG)

There was a moment where I stared so hard at the sea, I thought it grew eyes to look back at me.

A moment I thought the laptop might reach out in tenderness and hold my heart… 

…then I remembered… 

There was a moment where I imagined you might knock on our door

…then I remembered.

A moment in town when I thought I saw you with your bike.  Pink go faster stripes and a white plastic bottle of fuel for your journey… 

…then I remembered.

There was a blink of my eyes and all those who loved you every day in Spring for a series of days when we woke up…

News less shocking, hearts still heavy…

…tears flowed with the lyrics of Philadelphia…I heard you.   

There was a moment under Cherry Blossom trees when I realised I wasn’t in my life but more in the sadness of the end of yours.

Then I remembered.

I get to feel my hands in the earth, to plant seeds and seedlings, to watch them grow with my family.  Pink and white hues…a splash of yellow. 

More tender than words.  

Delicate in the wind and a reminder of life in your memory.

Every time the blossom falls and we count the numbers of the years up one more…distance will fall from us…we’ll see our life from a birds eye view…  

Like precious pink cherry blossom in our hands… fleeting and delicate… 

…we’ll remember you 

…and your beautifully strong connection with the mountains of earth.  

Claire Venus is a soulful entrepreneur and mum who writes about life and work in a 100 year old cottage by the sea in Northumberland, UK.

She also runs a Substack education space called Sparkle on Substack. 

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