Into the Meadow

The heat poured in today, burning the land beneath it.   For the first time for many months, nature is ruling supreme.  It has led me to isolate myself inside, by the fan as I think of Entering the Meadow, by the fallen trunks, passing the mooing cattle, an ibis and a snake, the river calls me you see, as it sings along, the river calls me to reclaim my birthrite.

Mostly, I am fairly scattered, part of me lives in Melbourne, part in Perth, other parts of my discected form reside in the UK, another gathers blossoms in Russia, ancestors I meet in  Germany, and days will go by, and into Italy I go, or maybe the good old States.   I am such an enigma, such a scattered seed of corn,  swept aside by the angry winds, that it forget to give me a place to claim my nationality.

wind in the willows

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