So here’s one I wrote in May. Hillcourt Farm is the Worcestershire Wildlife Trust site I volunteer at, beautiful low lying meadows on the Worcestershire/Gloucestershire border.

 

When all around is dark

I sail into light upon

This place, this ark

The waves crash

But this land is strong and deep

Steadied by oak and willow

Piloted by the racing hare

Lifted by the lark

Tossed on waves of meadow flowers

Decked with blackthorn

I sail away from storm

Carried by this land, this place

Lifted up on wings of song

Falling only into warm depths of mud and rush and reed

Sometimes I think this ark will carry me

And all its precious cargo

Turtle dove and nightingale

Bee and bird and butterfly

Bearing us safely through the storm

Or is my faith misjudged?

Is this song I hear

Only the violins on the decks of the Titanic

Doomed to drown?