Hand to Earth by Rebecca Brewin

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BALLAD OF THE FOREST FLOOR

It is as though some gathering up of cry
Lifts then into the thrust of trunks of trees
Through the gaps and grace of the branches
And in the canopy this draw runs through me

The forest floor is pregnant with some portent
The ground sounding through wood to sky
Birdsong and woodpecker splitting wood
And sticks snapping as fire under foot

In giving birth we cannot traverse over
Only through in tune with breaking open
And so the pangs of voice and of step
Of each animal hunting and hunted comes

The draw an umbilical thread of light
That now spills over the face of oak and me
And this is how we enter into the world
Head-first diving into the miry taste of risk