There’s a new kind of silence

On the Lawley this morning

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An inner kind of silence

On the Lawley this morning

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As if a new kind of consciousness

Was slowly dawning

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That has suffered and died

And has risen again

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Here on the Lawley

This morning.

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Photograph shows views from the Lawley

The breeze brings blessing

From hills and from sky

~

As if inspiration

Were the true vocation

~

Of the soul

Seeking harmony.

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The photograph shows Corndon Hill above the heather of The Stiperstones, Shropshire.

On Stiperstones

The gorse is out

~

The heather’s purple

And there’s the shout

~

Of green

Bursting everywhere

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I tread the way

And breathe the air

~

That’s freshest

Nearly anywhere –

~

And walk on blessed Stiperstones

Without a single care.

~

Rowan tree on the western side of The Stiperstones, Shropshire

At Pontesford and Plealey

Where the meadows flow so freely

And you wonder can you really

Love another place so dearly –

~

The cattle stand

And you have found

A solace for your soul

~

Where earth rises

Up so greenly

~

And all is made

To seem so whole

So supremely.

What a mystery

It is to exist

~

Life passing like a surprising mist

Rising over the hills

~

Revealing sights more wonderful

More beautiful still.

I was recently walking on The Stiperstones, early in the morning. It was frosty, and the sun was just rising, and the wildness of this beautiful ridge in Shropshire came beautifully into view as two crows came to settle on the crags that form the hill’s jagged silhouette…

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Wild

Amongst the Stretton hills

​~

Rolling

With buzzards and kites

​~

Wild

The fields that patch the plain

​~

With lambs that skip

And golden grain

​~

Wild

The rocks of Stiperstones

​~

Older than time

And dead mens’ bones

~​

Wild

The brooks

​~

Where dippers play

Kingfishers dart

​~

Wild the call

Of nature’s art

​~

Wild the call

To human hearts.

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