Clare Hannah

Yellow

Yellow, bright round sun
Yellow, sunflower
Yellow, bumblebee buzzing
Yellow pollen, dusting
Yellow honey, running

Yellow
Yellow pus
Yellow skin
Yellow emotion
Yellow

Yellow sun- bright – clear- warming- touching- radiating

Yellow walls,
Yellow paper,
Yellow book,
Yellow paint

Yellow -naming – evoking – creating – describing
Painting a picture, telling a story of yellow
Connecting, touching, living.

I am a stone

I am a stone
A stone in a church
Once beautifully carved
A headstone for a merchant
His life colourful, flamboyant, charismatic,
Remembered- celebrating what was
I was decorated, loved, cherished, and washed with tears
Now broken
A date, part of a name – fragmented, disconnected, anonymous
I am a step, a stepping stone
Trodden on, carrying people into the church ahead
I am worn and hollowed
By the steps of generations
The energy of the people remaining
The energy of the seasons, washing, freezing, warming baking
The energy of the moss- coating, softening, embracing, decorating,
The energy of the spiders- moving, sheltering, nesting, feeding,
A new world- a new life – changing adapting, receiving, responding- emerging.

Wide eyed and surprised

Wide eyed and surprised – I look again at the beautiful flower, the first snow drop, so early in the year – snow resting on its leaves and petals – its graceful head hung low, dewy, shining bright.

Wide eyed and surprised- I listen to the sound of music in the air- the sound of the wind-swirling, dancing, singing its song- calling me to come outside, to play, to be free, to hear the sounds, so many sounds- the leaves rustling, the birds singing, the trees groaning- all so alive- the breeze on my face, blowing through my hair, the ground under my feet, supporting, holding carrying me – skipping, turning, responding to the calls of the world.

Wide eyed and surprised by my grandmother’s smile, her laughter and delight –she is holding an enormous bowl of tomatoes- fresh from the greenhouse-I watch her enchanted – as she picks up and dips a warm sweetly scented tomato into a bowl of sugar- and then eats it- her eyes dancing – her face alive , calling me to join in.

Back to writing supported by Catherine Gammon

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