Being in This

by Roy K Austin

Sky at noon
echoes the bluebell,
ghosting the moon
echoing dust,

bee to bloom
where the live wire sings,
follow for now
the drone of wings.... ...

Hawk hovers
where fossils talk,
my poppies grow
through flint and chalk,

I must leave no
scent behind me -
run with the fox
to waiting ground ;

Will I see you
through my one eye -
your spirit in
the dragon - fly ?

As silent as
the swooping owl
admit the vole
into my soul,... ...

dark my way, as
phases of moon,
her mystic way
echoing light.

Towards Atman

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