For the love of my life

If I could write you,
I’d make you vast and strong with legs of oak
I’d rumple your leaves with a playful stroke
I’d plant you at the edge of a forest, overlooking the field
You’d watch me collect poppies as I skipped along.
There you’d root, tall and strong, and the birds filling
your head with song
I’d bow and curtsey and drop to my knees
For I’d have no-one but myself to please
And I would worship
the ground on which you did not walk.
I’d climb into your arms, hug you tight
Your rough bark against my cheek
I’d smile and sigh as the birds
built a nest
for me to sleep

I’d feel your soul arise
like music inside me

“no being, no nonbeing”

and after we’d had enough,
laughing we’d map

the stars within 

your branches.




Nts: 21:09-21:33-22:20 inspired by the writing exercise at the bottom of this guest post on Louis’s blog: – ‘My challenge to you . . . Rewrite this post in your own words. Describe your, “who, what, why, when, and where” of writing and what each of these means to you.’ (Jenny Knipfer). Didn’t mean to write this… but it’s what came out when I started typing.

Nadine inhales & exhales words & images from current vantage point in Zone of Emptiness, France. Thank you for reading. ❤︎ —


11 thoughts on “For the love of my life

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