Rebecca Lehmann is a Faversham (Kent) based creative, who loves writing nature-inspired poetry, singing folksongs, drawing and connecting with the land and community through permaculture and spirituality.
Early March, and the trees are lean,
the thin air whipping through
naked poles of neglected coppice.
I hear a distant roar of crashing seas
but know it is the wind torn by treetops,
and the clattering of rigging against lolling masts
is but the skeletal fingertips of dormant trees
finding each other – clattering, tapping and swaying,
thicker trunks rolling on the swell of heavy gusts
groaning and creaking on their static voyage.
As I stand, closed-eyed amongst these living decks
I feel the lift of the waves beneath me.
When I return, my gaze falls upon the
sunlit rain of hazel catkins,
celandine and bluebell shoots
and my thoughts are filled with
the promise of softer breezes.
At Sea © Rebecca Lehmann
I plunge my hands and feet into the black soil.
They elongate, bifurcate: thicken and swell,
reaching ever deeper into the moist and musty
sweet rotting bark and leaves
through worm casts, past beetle shells,
fungal fibres, moles’ whiskers...
further down, finding warmth,
clawing for comfort,
sensing Mother’s heartbeat
and the gentle swell of her breast
as Selene swings past again:
the lunar pull across Earth’s crust.
I am tree: instrument of life
dryad and hollow oak
steadfast but impermanent
source and dependent
breath and breathing
food and feeding.
I am air, earth, fire and water,
touching the sky and
holding the ground.
I am filled with light;
I am music and midnight silence.
Essential, integral, strong and expressive
I’ve humus in my nail beds
and leaves in my hair
My sap is rising now:
I must prepare...
Roots © Rebecca Lehmann 2019