HABREN'S TEARS
Soon after my father died I spent a few days with dear friends in their hillside home near Carno in mid Wales. A beautiful place where surrounded by their love and nature I started healing. This poem was inspired by our walk in the Hafren Forest, by the river where trees, tears, childhood memories and myth combined. HABREN'S TEARS Here in the now time, midst wooded familiar, etched stones of ancestors, North people, brooding, in my blood, my bones. Walk in the Hafren, glimpse ghost self, dancing through shadows of pine brushed ink strokes, plimsolls slipping on jewelled moss quilt. Consoling boardwalk, meditative step on step memories lapped by gurgling waters, skipping on slate, bubbles rising, the infant Sabren at play. Light fades into gloaming, damp enveloping, wrapped in mist shroud, melt into brume, bearded forest consumes. Caught tight in stillness; sorrows drowned in Hab...