The Way of The Way is Revealed

Photo by Diane Baker on Unsplash

I didn’t know my way,

When I set out this morning,

Turned out there was no need,

Because I was led.


As I chose my own way,

The buzzard, she chose me,

Flew over my path,

And drew me to her.


‘This entrance’, she said,

This part of the forest,

Just follow my lead,

I won’t steer you wrong.


So I let the dogs loose,

And I hardly see them,

They exit so quickly,

Merge into the bush.


My eyes follow

Her recent path,

My footfalls fall with me.

I can only trudge, as she has floated.


I don’t have to wait long,

She lingers for me,

Perched on a birch,

As bare as is stark,


So I can’t mistake her

For a flurry of leaves,

Or a tangle of branches.

She is clear.


I fancy she turns

Her head to look at me,

Beckoning …


But before I go to her,

A pair of crows,

Announce their pairing,

With a rough caw-cawing.


They swoop an attack

Driving this temptress

From their treetop home.


One pursues her,

The courage of a wild thing,

Across the wayward scrub.


The trees look on,

I look on,

Stunned by display,

Of aerial manoeuvre,

And heart stopping bravery.


She is chased from this place,

And I give chase too,

Though no longer seeing,

I feel her,

I hope her.


But she has completed

Her morning’s task,

To draw me deeper,

Into the woods.


And so she has vanished,

Just like a ghost,

And I am left wondering,

In my wandering.


Did I imagine

The entire thing?

Or have I been called

By my power animal?


With lessons of beauty,

Truth, Independence,

A fierce wildness,

That leads as it sustains.

A desire to inspire … Find me and my books at

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