The Earth calls.
Deep down. Voices moving between toes.
Up the trunks. No beginning. No end.
Just the voice. Voices.
I feel it. Resonance.
So close. Close enough to touch.
I can’t reach.
Just shy. Not quite. Never quiet.
Unanswered. The wind moans. Rain smacks the house.
My dog shivers. As do I. Curled under covers.
Water moves through earth.
Deep down. Underground caverns. Chambers. Secret oceans.
The floorboards groan.
Out. Into the night.
Under stars. Galaxies. Worlds.
My feet sink. Wet grass. Squelch. Soil between my toes.
The Earth sings.
Lying. Silence. Dark.
Bed against the walls. Exit’s in view. Scared.
Focus. Listen. Heart racing. Racing. RACING.
Just the dog. The cat. Mum. Dad. Sister.
“It’s fine.” “Don’t be stupid.” “Go to sleep.”
Sore eyes. Spots in the dark.
Nothing. Closed. Nothing. There’s nothing. Shadows move. It’s nothing.
Relax. Sleep. Relax. Sleep. Relax. Sleep.
Light through the curtains.
Stacked stones. Some small. Some large.
Leading us down. Towards a cliff.
In a circle. Some toppled. Others perfect.
We sit. Silent. Contemplative. Listening.
Spider’s homes stretched. Some covered. Others bare.
We look. We wait. We feel. We leave.
They’re sleeping. For now.
The river’s flooding. Breached it’s banks.
The water’s brown. Full of debris. Smells disgusting.
Things washing up. Rubbish. Waste. A bull shark.
People are swimming. Playing. Letting their children.
Swift Water Rescue.
Logs flying past. Water’s so swift. Dark and murky.
Everyone wants a pet. Or a few.
I have a few. Six in my room. Little birds. Parakeets. They’re funny.
One’s missing a wing. He’s recovered. But we were worried.
The dog’s to blame. She’s in trouble. Still. Driving us insane.
And the cat watches. He’s above it all. And perfect. A big cuddle. And purr.
…and I’m drowning.
Kind of literally. I have a chest infection. So, mucus.
And also metaphorically. Uni. New degree. Art journalling. Non-violent communication.