I came home to myself
in a summer meadow,
surrounded by swaying grasses
and hot sunshine
watching as butterflies
opened a portal to infinity.
I spent three days in that place,
Alone within a circle of rocks,
Wicklow granite and marble stones
polished by the meadow’s river.
I watched bees journey from purple clover flower
to purple clover flower.
Tall strawberry blonde grasses
with plump seed heads
swaying in a Southeasterly breeze.
A gathering of sensual dancers
that stood at eye-level with me.
Their supple spines back-bending in sychronisation.
Occasional ravens traversed overhead
as the sun travelled westwards
until it descended below the wood line,
when sparrow vespers and twilight falls
called me from the dreamtime into the sleeptime
under the great arc of the Milky Way
in a new moon sky.
Each day break as bright and as warm as the other.
The dawn sun vaporizing the night’s dewdrops.
Waves of sunshine lapped against my skin
after the sun passed over the top of an Elderflower tree
on its journey towards a cloudless noon.
I lowered myself to the ground
and surrendered to the embrace of the earth.
in the heat of the afternoon of the third day.
The horseflies stayed away.
I died, there,
in the pure ecstasy of that place.
A blanket of light enfolded my skin
and the sun above fired me within.
I wanted for nothing.
I was home and cradled.