Our Finest Belonging

 An edited version of a poem I wrote in 2021 inspired by a Sorolla painting of wife and daughters lying in the grass. 

As
we lay there, our
grass
bodies
within
the
sea

of
meadow; sweep of wind carrying us along,

flowers
of rye. We, the droning bumble bees

in
buttercups, the chirruping finches, chomping

cattle;
sudden
dartings
within
briary hedgerows,

rustlings,
commotions
but
hunters’ silences
too

and
only
a
vague
conscious
ness
of
the faraway

                                              cataracts
of traffic.

How
sumptuous the flow of light and warmth,

the
sinuousness of our bodies in that current;

the
colours of the field embroider
ed
into
our bodies.

We,
agglomerations of the soil, but the criss-crossing

zeniths
of nerve and muscle too:

at
one with the swathes of breeze-blown beauty,

settled,
nested into our finest belonging.

source

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