Descent and ascent

Another poem from the weekend retreat.

Walking down to the river
on, and sometimes in
a muddy, rain-sodden path
fear of falling
of descending quicker than anticipated
on slippery mud
becomes a joyous exploration of
‘will I arrive at the bottom in one piece?’

In the field discovering
a patchwork of narcissi
casually laid out
leading to the woods
as if no one has ever been here before
no one has ever seen what I am seeing.

The ascent is a delight of
squelching noise as the mud
clings to my boots
trying to remove them.

Breathless
I am become a child again
delighted
I am become a child again
exploring
I am become a child again.

© 17 Apr 16