10: Spirituality - Oct 2021

Easdale Absolution

Along an unkempt path, I wandered,
passing crippled bushes
arched in obedience to harsh winds,
like lepers longing for a warming touch,
a sun that seldom visits.

Echoes of slate dwellings;
long abandoned for the lust of progress,
jigsaw the land with unsteady plates
and hints of heather race the sea air 
in search of recognition.

I was a stranger, trespassing
In a wild place
ravaged by spirited beasts
that buffet and slash in
relentless contempt of life’s will.

A tenacious beauty clutches here,
weaving between sleeping rocks,
hugging crags and questioning fissures.
It blooms towards the heavens
in defiance of elementals.

Long after, when chilled skin thawed
and fingers searched for connection,
part of me pondered why life
persists at the edges,
begging for the forgiveness of heat?

Like the flowers of Easedale
and its burdened trees,
I too have stubborn roots
but who do I reach for
when my island is stormed?

-Jason Conway

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