“Blessed be childhood, which brings down something of heaven into the midst of our rough earthliness.” — Henri Frederic Amiel
Noticing Scrambling on my stone-scratched and soil-stained knees, falling further beneath this canopy, all feels covert, mysterious, hidden, concealed from indifferent adult eyes, which tend to skim and skirt the surface of things and miss the obvious, because they fail to look hard enough. But now, as my breath breaks free in tiny gasps, I notice how the earthworm burrows, where the snail trail slithers, how the ants scurry fast, bees warningly buzz and soft butterflies flit around, seeking a fresh place to land.
I note where sharp thorns sit waiting to pierce us unawares, elicit shrieks, for they know how vulnerable human skin can be, how easily a barrier can be broken, and a raw wound gape and bleed, like slitting open an envelope sleeve. And I'm learning how a girl like me can hide away, close to a veiled, unseeing parental gaze. This bushy undergrowth is like a world within a world, one I long to lose myself in, to press into darkness while my heart seeks out the tiny, flickering pinpricks of light found glittering in the gaps as stars, gently pointing the way forward—like a litany of psalms. © joylenton
“There is always one moment in childhood when the door opens and lets the future in.” — Graham Greene
The poem above has been extracted from my latest book ‘Sacred Noticing: Seasonal Glimpses of the Infinite’ which is available on Amazon. UK readers can access it by clicking on the link above and readers who live elsewhere can find the book by clicking on the image below. Xx 🙂 ❤