As we sit by the river,
My daughter and I,
On the stump of an old Oak tree,
She suckling upon my breast,
Half sleepy, half
Catching glimpses of duck and
Damsel and buzzing bee.
I search the waters for the
Tiny fishes I used to see so
Readily, ready to nibble my toes.
I search for movement within
And atop the water and
I find so very little.
The river looks dark and
I am struck with a sullen, sinking grief.
This feels so unfamiliar and
So sudden.
Yes, I know it has been happening
For years and yet,
Now there is a starkness,
An eerie silence where the wild
Once sang.
The peace of the wild is now
Achingly loud in its quiet.
In this moment, we
Offer what we have to offer.
We sing to and for the river.
We apologise and
We offer prayers.
Calling upon all those beings seen
And unseen that may carry these prayers
Like gentle, yet poignant, arrows
Into the hearts of those who are
Actioning harm and, by some magic,
Shift something.
May we awaken from
Our stupored sleep
And begin our grieving.
May we remember our
Place here within this living Earth.
May we action toward and
In service of thriving life.
A damselfly lands on a leaf nearby
A kingfisher swoops past us.
A gentle breeze blows upon
My back, whispering past my ears.
As the wind blows
As the wind blows
Carry this to all who need to know.
Show us another way.
Show us another way.