In the garden of Great Rock Farm in Devon, I met with the Bird Whisperer: though I often called him The Monk, since he put me in mind of St Francis of Assisi. And then I also thought of him as the Silence Man.
Sitting on the seat next to him, I felt his peace and the peace of the garden, and it inspired some poetry in me. Twice, in fact! I share them with you, hoping that with it you might share some of the blessing I received there.
Sitting on the seat next to him, I felt his peace and the peace of the garden, and it inspired some poetry in me. Twice, in fact! I share them with you, hoping that with it you might share some of the blessing I received there.
The Silence Man
He stands in dappled light,
Or misty rain or flowing wind.
They touch him, but he simply accepts them,
And is unmoved,
Unshaken from his Silence.
In contemplation,
In communion,
He and his companion,
The bird that rests in his hands.
He stares down, gentle, appreciative of what he holds.
It stares up, trusting, appreciative of being held,
Their world is each other.
Tell me, Silence Man,
How can I be like you?
Where can I find that rest, that peace,
How do I step into your silence?
He makes no reply.
He does not break his silence.
But his silence speaks,
And tells me that it is.
Being here.
Bird song
(Sharp piercing cries, rippling warbles, tunes without notes in such variety, counterpointing the…)
Water song
(Splashing, gurgling, rippling, tinkling little stream, changing every moment to be the same, and always itself, and…)
Wind song
(Shaking the trees in its passing, sighing in branches and breathing on the leaves, filling the world with insubstantial presence).
- Songs I hear with my ears.
Light dappling
(Golden and warm through the leaves, quivering on the grass).
Clouds scudding
(High and far, stunning white against deep blue, travelling on business of their own).
Trees waving
(Green in sunlight, black against the sky, always in motion, acknowledging the passing clouds).
- Songs I see with my eyes.
Earth solid
(Firm beneath my feet, supporting and strong)
Breeze gentle
(Touching me lightly, kind reassurance of my presence and my welcome).
Breath cool
(Inhaled, fresh in mouth or nostrils, drawing life into me).
- Songs I feel with my body.
Grace healing
(Unearned restoration of what is bruised or broken, there for the receiving).
Beauty blessing
(Lifting me in wonder to appreciate that which is there to please by its existence).
Love welcoming
(Telling me that wherever I am, I have a place, a home: I belong).
- Songs I know in my soul.
Here,
Being.
Bird song
(Sharp piercing cries, rippling warbles, tunes without notes in such variety, counterpointing the…)
Water song
(Splashing, gurgling, rippling, tinkling little stream, changing every moment to be the same, and always itself, and…)
Wind song
(Shaking the trees in its passing, sighing in branches and breathing on the leaves, filling the world with insubstantial presence).
- Songs I hear with my ears.
Light dappling
(Golden and warm through the leaves, quivering on the grass).
Clouds scudding
(High and far, stunning white against deep blue, travelling on business of their own).
Trees waving
(Green in sunlight, black against the sky, always in motion, acknowledging the passing clouds).
- Songs I see with my eyes.
Earth solid
(Firm beneath my feet, supporting and strong)
Breeze gentle
(Touching me lightly, kind reassurance of my presence and my welcome).
Breath cool
(Inhaled, fresh in mouth or nostrils, drawing life into me).
- Songs I feel with my body.
Grace healing
(Unearned restoration of what is bruised or broken, there for the receiving).
Beauty blessing
(Lifting me in wonder to appreciate that which is there to please by its existence).
Love welcoming
(Telling me that wherever I am, I have a place, a home: I belong).
- Songs I know in my soul.
Here,
Being.
The gardens at Great Rock Farm include another amazing piece by the same artist, Jeremy Moulsdale. This is 'The Wind Beneath My Wings'.
His website is https://www.jeremymoulsdale.co.uk/in-the-garden