Enjoy just over 4 minutes of my morning walk this morning through the gorgeous, stunning, beautiful, serene, and inspiring natural surroundings of my home village.
woods
Short story: “The Man in Green” (2018) by Mark Hastings
“The Birthplace of the Poet”
My Poem “The Embodiment of Poetry”
I walked into the woods today... I returned to a place that I know well and a place that knows me... I saw the same trees that I have known for over a decade, and as soon as I entered the place where the poet in me was born I saw echoes of myself from the past - and I felt as if, once again, I was seeing a version of myself who had yet to have suffered the scars and the losses that I had. I have always felt blessed with inspiration whenever I go back to where things began for me - the place that I have a memory of which is so clear and special, the place where I only remember feeling an abundance of happiness, the place that I consider a fountain of poetry, that I have been back to many times over the years; however, today, this time, from the moment that I reentered the oasis of life that over time has become the endless kaleidoscope of memories, experiences, and thoughts from the moment that I saw it, I felt as if I were returning truly changed and different from who I was when I first visited. I felt it almost immediately: I was not the same person as I was, and yet I was still the same poet who I have always been - but now filled with the things of mine taken from the shadows of the monuments that define my life... I felt like I was one of the trees, and I felt as if they were as close to me as family... I felt like I had been waiting for something which was always there - but, before today, I could not perceive what had always been all around me and right in front of me. I had been away from this place for a long time - but as soon as I was once again surrounded by the storytellers of nature itself, it did not take me long to complete the puzzle within me, by using the pieces I had left behind from the last time I was there, to realise that I am, and I have always been, what I always wanted to be: the embodiment of poetry.
“Get Out There”
A Poem A Day #315: Turned Around
My Poem “Nature and Me”
There are some mornings
when I walk out into
the bright light of a new day
when I feel like I am being
compelled to walk in a particular
direction so that I may go somewhere
that my heart, my mind, my soul,
the path before me needs me to be –
and sometimes the place I am drawn to
is somewhere I find myself returning to:
a place where I felt an awakening within me.
A place of tall trees that has always
felt like a natural cathedral, a church,
a temple, a place of worship
that has always meant so much to me…
a sacred place that I have a connection to
since the moment I walked under
the sun-drenched summer leaves
of its canopy and since I first
walked upon and through the
glowing green grass that in
the summer time carpets
the forest floor before me.
A place of beauty seemingly far away
from the rest of the world
that has inspired countless inhales
of intoxication of the pine laced air
that has always been the cure
and the spark to bring alive
and bring together every thought,
every instinct, every hope,
every beat of my heart in unison
with one another.
When I am walking on my own
I always feel like I have been gifted
and I am following the path
that I need to take to bring
everything into focus, to give me clarity,
to see the poetry that explains
things so simply and yet so profoundly
without the need for an audible
explanation to be heard.
A spirit, a joy, a presence
has on numerous occasions
made me close my eyes and open
my arms wide as I take in every moment
that I feel directly connected
to the source of all life in the universe
that I feel is my greatest gift
and which I believe is that
inexplicable perception of reality
that people for a long time have had
many names for but which is commonly
known as their “sixth sense” –
that is what I feel and that is what I see
when there is no one else around
and it is just nature and me.
My Poem ‘Turned Around’
While in the woods,
I got lost, I got turned around, and I lost my way;
while in the woods,
my path disappeared like pavement drawings
after a shower of rain;
while in the woods,
the wind blew through the trees;
while in the woods, time froze;
while in the woods,
there wasn’t a definitive direction for me to see;
while in the woods,
I found myself somewhere I did not know.
While in the woods, I heard distant noises;
while in the woods, my own potent survival instincts
focused every and all of my choices;
while in the woods, I walked past a tree
that looked as if it had been burned from the inside out,
as if it has been struck by lightning;
while in the woods, as I walked further,
I knew that the day was getting later,
because of the darkening of the day-lighting.
While in the woods, with every step that I took,
the colour of the leaves on the ground got darker and darker,
and after a time it looked as if I were walking on, and in, space,
because everything was black;
while in the woods, there were no signposts,
or anything that I or anyone could use as a marker,
and as my perception of time disappeared,
it did cross my mind for an instant
that I may never make it back.
While in the woods, the moon was the only source of illumination,
and even though it was an aid to me,
it still could not tell me where I should go;
while in the woods, you hear things rustling all around you,
but because there is hardly any light to see by,
knowing what might only be inches away from you
is something that you turn over in your imagination;
while in the woods, you feel the hairs on the back of your neck
stand on-end, and you wonder if, at some point,
you may not notice an obstacle right in front of you,
that might trip you up and send you head over toe;
while in the woods, you feel like you could walk for hours,
because your body and your mind
know that they should not be here after dark,
and all feelings of hunger or exhaustion
become distant memories and do not cross your mind for a second,
and as soon as you lose any semblance of sight,
all of your other senses unbelievably and radically become heightened.
While in the woods, you feel more deeply,
and your thoughts become louder;
while in the woods, and alone, your inner-voice becomes audible,
as you start talking to yourself,
and even the breaking of the tinniest of twigs
sounds like the roar of a crashing boulder.
While in the woods, you forget why you are in the woods,
and you ask yourself questions
that you might never have thought to ask at any other time before,
and may never ask those same questions again afterwards in the future,
but at the time you are asking them they are incredibly profound.
While in the woods,
you eventually find yourself in the very spot where you entered,
which may seem like a life-time ago,
however in reality you may discover that the time
is not what you think it is,
and the person that is you is not the one of the same mind,
and no longer focused on the same things,
as the you who walked into the woods,
and who somehow got turned around.
Mark The Poet 