Poetry: Turning


I am the turning and the wheel,
she says, and in my bones I feel
the thawing of the winter frost
which comes with spring. What have we lost
that we no longer know her voice?
Was it by writ or else by choice,
that we no longer know or hear
that gentle voice, the changing year
a number on a printed page.
We live, we die, we grow, we age.


Rebecca explains: “For me, this poem is about the lost connection between the modern man or woman and the changing world around them. In a way, almost without realising it, we working to create barriers, distancing ourselves from the natural turn of the seasons and the passage of time. We do this both on a personal level and a larger scale, yet we are part of that natural cycle ourselves. Whatever happens, we were born and we will die. We will return to ‘the earth’ – and from that earth, something new will grow.”


Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s