Turf maze by Yvonne Aburrow
Pacing the maze
cut from soft chalk
we gyre and turn
around the heart
of mother Earth.
Turning inwards
gyring outwards
in the spiral
of mystery ~
now lost, now found.
Boughs overhead
bursting with green:
the path beneath
turning inwards
to the unseen.
Spring flowers grow
so silently
weaving a song
leading outwards
into the light.
Meadow of life
where light and dark
play the drama
of death and birth
within the maze.
From dark we rise
given to light;
to dark return
at end of days
to be reborn.
Darkness and sleep,
hidden waters
of mother Earth,
tide of resting,
dreaming, dying.
Awakened light,
fires of morning,
life rekindled:
heartbeat of Spring,
song of the Earth.
The dance proceeds
in measured grace
round the stillness
at the centre
of the turf maze.