The Smoke blew through the Stone

Love is not the word for it, we had a very deep close relationship which was indefinable; as deep as the forest which surrounded us. We had our own language which we mostly never bothered much to speak… forest tongue, whitebird, mudtalk, owlish…
The real communication was made without words.with no one else around. You follow?
Even when on our own we spoke through poetry, each sending each other smoke signals, messages, coda.
I didn’t own him , he didn’t own me, there is no need to stake any kind of claim…no one owns anyone.We are gifts to each other, sometimes burrs, sometimes flowers, pine needles, leaves.
Always a seed comes and takes root. First the two leaves, then something else, an ancient rule which is the principle of life….


Veronica Aldous 10 August  2016 All Rights Reserved


3 thoughts on “The Smoke blew through the Stone

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