they say i come from a time before time itself.
myself, i do not know.
my memory stretches back,
a sea-shore flattened into
miles of long, glistening horizon.
i smell of meadowsweet and yarrow,
its strength my brow.
i taste dark-brown earth behind my teeth,
it grits on my gums.
a long, slow rumble,
an eternal yawn.
the ephemeral and solid
hold me in their grasp.
i laid down the land for you.
you walk my flesh.
you tread my backbone.
Written at a workshop at WoodSpirit Camp in Silverdale. Lorna Smithers took us on a guided meditative journey to the Giant’s Seat, then left us for a little while for us to see what we got from it… She then led us through some quickfire writing with some prompting from her… this is what I got, these are the bones from the sprawling flesh… this is her piece – https://lornasmithers.wordpress.com/blog/
breathing fire into who we are 