Sanctuary

an aged Cedar of wine-hued strands rooted deep in centuries past

long summer Grass, copper and bronze, dancing in the breeze

the caress of lithe Arbutus: golden red in morning light

Dandelion in seed, alone on a rock-strewn meadow
a Spider surveying the centre of the universe

morning Mist snaking through Pine & Fir

Stones of stillness robed in Lichen

Songbird’s trill to awaken Dawn

bare soles on a sea of Moss

the first Rain of summer

the call of Raven

the Sky, the

Earth

The

Earth

beneath the

asphalt beneath the

concrete that structures our 

lives beneath the fragments of self 

we hide in pockets of fear and anger and

loneliness that betray our unspoken and denigrated

need for the dandelion that pokes her head from cracks in

the sidewalk where once we danced and jumped and sang about

our mother’s back but really its our own back that is broken and splintered

and no amount of glysophate will kill that gorgeous yellow sunshine  that dares to

 shine no matter how we pretend that Sanctuary exists within these prison walls

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