By Astrid Hall (Painting By Astrid Hall)

Hidden away,

Rigid and cold

Like a hermit or snail,

I reside alone.

My eyes;

Tied to rubble and soil

Are blind to your world

And the evasive colours

Of a suspended sky.

But one day a patter

Of rain on my roof

Thunders within;

An echo of proof

That the sopping wet soil

And the blink of my eyes

Is a gift of the gaze

Of a benevolent sky.

Often I feel the wink of a star

Gliding into my limbs

And

The crumble of earth

Caked over rough skin.

Though stalks may wither

And my tongue crinkle up,

I’ll never resent

The powers above.

I have known

A massive mountain of flesh,

A machine of destruction,

A creature of death,

To demolish soft leaves.

They drooped in despair

And caressed my cheeks.

A humble farewell.

The breeze gave its condolences;

A regretful sigh.

But soon

A shoot:

Trembling and new

Pushed into a crack

And writhed into view.

I watch it grow

With the patience of someone

Who has nowhere to go.

I am comfortable here,

Basking in the fluorescent glow

Of a star shining

Through vitrines of green:

Stained glass windows

You are too tall to see.