Earth Pathways Showcase

If you walk barefoot on the grass
If you surrender, just for a moment
to the pull of the great orb which lies beneath your feet like some
benevolent beast

You will know, sooner or later, even fleetingtly,
the way your body and mine thrum with universal notes
of longing for what is.

And all the while
the insatiable sky
holds open its blue throat
to draw us all in

And all the while
these small birds here
know which
conversations are the
important ones to have,
the only ones.

Start here – look at me
and into my eyes and see
that like the birds,
we are simply here
and that can only
be good.

Thema Mundi © Jenny Barton 2018

Under these sands lie ancient forests, speaking of damp solidity.
The land remembers you, softly.

You are an elemental being:
Saltwater veins
crushed-rock bones
a buzzard’s cry
liquid sun running down your back.

Gather yourself in now – the first harvest
Re-membering
Re–placing limbs and organs
in space.

Do not let the shifting sand keep you – wrench your feet from its sticky hold.
Dance on the shoreline
Feel the drum of your heels beating out your edges like a warrior’s call.

You are a being elemental
Ask yourself, audaciously, where your roots are – where you want your roots to be.
Listen to your soul’s song.
Dance barefoot, though the sharp stones may cut you; saltwater heals.
You have the strength of the rocks in your spine:
Use it – and let the wild waves carry you.

On the Beach at Lammas © Jenny Barton 2017

This is a season of water and fire.
Everything is harvested, and all that remains
is to burn, burn away the waste.

Face the dark forest; you will emerge from it changed, one way or another.
Grasp the nettle; you will come to know it completely, again and again.
Keep your own counsel; your silence, this time, will protect and guard you.

Death can be savage
And the winter is coming, with ancestors riding on its wings.

You have three choices:
Go, journey out, find a new place – and be in beautiful, restless exile.
Sleep, in dormancy dream – and rest your way to rebirth.
Meet the dark, shapeshift – and find a new form to your Self.

Give up your illusion of control.
Take up your map.
Set one foot in front of the other.
Know that your body accompanies you and is faithful.

Spin; and in the spinning you will grasp galaxies and absorb the wisdom of plants and trees.

This is a season of fire and water. Death leaves traces, waymarkers on the path to build, build again full Life.

Samhain Poem - Wild Swans © Jenny Barton 2015

This morning, the sky hung impossible
midsummer blue above the hoar-frost ground.
The blackbird sang a lament for the year,
The blackthorn sent out a long, wounding wand.

This night, the Fears come crawling and scratching
Yet still themselves if offered a gentle seat.
This night, a fire will burn, invisible.
Deep down in soil in mud a heart will beat.

Under Brigid’s cloak the complete Dark will fall,
Swamp mire will rise, cloying around our hearth.
Yet, dawn will come, quiet and whispering,
Gradually gathering the coming out-breath.

Mother hold me, rock me, through this long night.
My Sun stands still, suspended, out of Time.

Sonnet for Winter Solstice © Jenny Barton 2014

Under fairy feet, above wild sands-
wild mint.
Her offerings of flower and stone
held in small hands.

Purposeful she strides, ahead of me
her map
of horses, secret doors and hill
river and tree.

Wondering and slow, I come behind
to glimpse
what she sees clear within her bright
looking-glass mind.

Buttercups for bears © Jenny Barton

I am the twitching paw of the wolf
For too long immobilised
Indeed, scattered on the earth
Fragmented.
Now my bones are re-gathered
Love kisses life back into me
In the cave of my heart
I am reborn.
Wait, wait –
the dreams come thick and fast.

Now.
Get up, and run.

Die Wolf-Frau © Jenny Barton

The tree outside reminds me of an elephant
Grey, weathered bark hangs in folds, lined and wrinkled
It stands solid in my line of vision.

On the river, a boat passes and a man shouts - brash vowels clanging
Then quiet returns.

I want to climb into the forks of the branches
And feel beneath my thighs the enormous legs begin to move
Seeking out water in the heat of the day.

By the river, orange soil turns to mud and crocodiles lie waiting
The air shimmers.

The tree gently flaps its leaf ears
And I watch the field, the road, the jungle, the tiger
The elephant roots deep in the earth.

In the river, brilliant colours of cloth swirl and merge as people gather
The chanting starts.

From my treetop seat under my canopy
I would see the rivers snaking, veins across the body of the world
- Wye to Nkusi to Kaveri -
More things connect us than we think.

In the tree © Jenny Barton