A Middle Place Called Home
By Eva Mannan
The heat shines strong on the scales of my skin
As I sit transfixed with the warmth absorbing in
The moment is made silent by the flutter of such wings
Playing a gentle melody- for he himself to sing
What an emergence of such a delicate creature!
Bold in stature yet small in it’s nature
With colours so blood against leaves so green
Happily gleaming at you, waiting to be seen.
He sits on the branches that cascade from left to right
With no order to it’s positioning just reaching for the light
I creep in closer to get a clearer sight
Careful not to make sound, or cause a fright.
In the middle, he, now known to me as you,
Sits so patiently watching the view
Twisting your head swiftly into the light
And reaching down onwards, with every bite.
This middle place remains yours for here and now
The gentle spot you’ll sit and continue to dominate somehow
Until you flutter away to another place called home
That, I’m sure, you’ll make every inch of your own.
Words by Eva Mannan
Photographs by Niamh Hejask
Editor: Amira Umar
A delightful trip into our first home, nature with a poem about a little Robin. Thank you to our Cherry Galz: Eva, whose heart is a relic from heaven and whose writing always takes our breath away. Thank you to our vibrant Niamh, whose work and imager can only be described as ethereal. Please take some time to look at the wonderful online exhibition of Niamh's work.
Just know that you're doing incredibly well with the circumstances you've been given. Whilst perhaps our own wings feel restricted, remember to create the feeling of home for yourself.