In Praise Of Decay (and against plastic)

Malcolm Guite

In pale gold leaf-fall losing shape and edge In pale gold leaf-fall losing shape and edge

I walk each morning in some woodland near my home and especially savour in this late autumn, early winter season, the damp carpet of fallen leaves, now decaying and forming  rich mulch that will feed the soil for future growth. Even in their decay, losing edge and shape, melding and blending together there is in this carpet of leaves, a kind of grace and beauty. The other morning though, these meditations were interrupted by a sudden intrusion. There amongst the gold and mottled leaf mould, like some harsh alien excrescence, was a discarded plastic bag. It was totally out of place and told its own tale of indifference and carelessness; not just the carelessness of the person that dropped it, but the carelessness of the culture that produced it. The trees shed their leaves, and in that fall and letting go  achieve…

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an incomplete equation…

beautifully thought out !!!

Read Between the Minds

an incommplete equation

i’ve started counting
ever since
i realized that
a finite number
of them
it helps me
fill the emptiness
when you’re
not around
for the most part
a pleasant sound
rather relaxing
staring into a dark sky
much better than
counting imaginary sheep
a practice
i’ve never really understood
always seemed
skittish to me
something to count
to be avoided
you should try
counting heartbeats
you’d be amazed
how loud
they can become
in the silence of darkness
how the sound resonates
in your chest
as you count
and wonder
the final total
will be

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