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 –