Tearing At The Fabric Of The Sky

Flame touched & sun burnished

Summer’s promise fulfilled as

Earth’s marrow of moisture sucked–

Even the gentlest of rain

Just the merest dampening caress  

Draws up a yearning ripe scent.

Two wilden springs

Running deep through the valley’s flank

Molecule by molecule –

Ah, water a‘top the hill too!

Leaning against the window

A shed antler,

Three branches reaching heavenwards -

This green cleft in the rain.

This arc thus revealed

Step after tentative step

Binding the directions into a whole,

Slipping aside the curtain

To catch a glimpse

Of the valley as the world in itself.

Yearning to be seen;

Becoming 

Through being named.

A long plaintive schreeck

Tears at the sky-fabric

As a buzzard spirals beneath the clouds