Cynefin

Dolphin dream

Like white-foamed waves that break on lonely beaches. Like the wind’s song where no one hears the wind. They beckon us, I know, but to no purpose –The old forgotten things of humankind.

‘Remembrance’ – From Cofio – Waldo Williams

~ ~ ~

In my dream, dolphins played in a friendly sea.

Their joy swelled my heart.

I clapped my hands,

applauding their display and immediately,

they were stilled,

their searching eyes fixed on mine.

In that fleeting moment,

that  recognition of something other than myself,

all my senses were aware of

the ‘other’ in me,

the ‘other’ in them.

~ ~~

Cynefin

A Welsh word for habitat or place. A place where a being feels it ought to live, where nature around you feels right and welcoming.

Painting -Dolphin Dream – Teri Flynn * Masked Native

Pencil Sketch

I sit in the Garden of Remembrance, on a damp wooden bench. It is 10.30am. The church bell rings three times. I am here to talk to you, if you would come, one more time, just for today, to this cold, shaded side of the church where tired ground, patch-worked grass, wind weathered yew trees, and rain sodden flowers in plastic buckets present no joy, no comfort.

Lets be done with this lifeless place, stay away Mum, there is no need to come here again. I know you hear me, I know you agree. You are in my heart. Your memory more alive than this bleakest of places could ever be.

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