Post Moderna aching head
wanting to lie down in bed
but the birds are singing
and the day's brand new
the first of twenty twenty-two
and I'll be damned
if Delta and Omicron
are going to win
this war they've begun;
I'm needled and masked
and I'm stepping outside
to soak up the sunshine
and step into my life -
to walk through forests
throw my arms around trees
feel their healing vibrations
from my head to my feet -
to play bird-call bingo
as the birds sing me along
some of them laughing
when I get the calls wrong -
to smell the musty smells
that hint at the wild
and play eye spy with creatures
evolutionised to hide -
to stand under waterfalls
that wash away pain
and let the rhythms of nature
seep through my veins -
to attune my heart
to the sounds and the smells
and the life force of all things
in Mother Earth's world -
to soak up the goodness
and take it back home
with energised chakras
that block out my qualms -
but maybe first
I'll just walk
through the park
and osmose dogs playing
in that space
where their thoughts are.
