Safety in Rockhollow

My life reset,
doors reopened,  
wolves of my mind allowed out on the wild Moor    
as soon as my feet touched Devon earth.    
   
In the rain I wander through the garden,  
more hedgehog than human,    
digesting sights, scents, a spider making a silver web beneath the cherry tree.    
I pour out water from barrows    
and terracotta trays.    
My child plays in the summerhouse    
sounds of sopping sky bounce on the roof.    
I charge my fingers into digging    
tulip bulbs by Autumn grey,    
cornflower seeds thrown on a sharp breeze.  
Yes, this life    
is precious.
I am glad to be safe.