set free

the held anger driven by love,
 
a way for us to float further apart,
 
I see clouds change colour in greying skys' & wonder what
is within ( thoughts, dreams, sunlight, rains)
 
the children playing, or hiding with fear in their small worlds, the hopefull hearts,
 
perhaps sitting no longer with their birth rights of safety, and love,
 
as parents fear death, like the struggle with death, like the struggle with debt, with war, with all forced things,
 
a distance from open warm woodland fires, winds gently blowing lovers closer beneath flourishing oak branches, lilac leaves, & when clear, the kissing moon
 
reaching through flesh and bone to
open up emotions rooted in all elements,  
 
smiling as we know together, families with friends, touching regardless-
 
letting anger fall away
 
                                 & go
 
 go go go go go go
 
                             & be gone
 
 
this climate is wrong, again- if
we can share this thought then perhaps connection & communication will follow & be restored again-
 
remembering our histories of war through the purple heathers
 
somehow history forgot to describe all this love in between, the living, kissing, laughing and playing...had in the lives of our folk- our ancesters- eating together- not just fighting- laughing and loving, too
 
where is this historical account?
or are we only conditioned with war?
 
I imagine a young deer stood at the edge of woodland
where a deep gentle snow silences the air-
a stillness reaches through
calming the days rest,
 
warmth within as a low winter sun glistens across fields  
now long harvested
giving homes for gentle hares
to rest, unseen