A wretched landscape 

Concrete misshapen paving slab after slab

No where to go but down, no real growth

Just trodden down into shadow and gutter

No place for creature but tamed poisoned or maimed

What nature

Unveiled when hidden and timeless yet knowing she is here

In the cursed wretchedness of a landscape barren with body after body of lifeless despair

Filth beyond filth and not the sort that plays with puddles makes mud and lines footprints with where we have been

But underneath that trodden down cardboard cut out plastic rubbish bag collected one day but forgotten too soon

Homeless wreckage hunger for companion, still emerges sweetness and understanding of a ghost that left a home too many moons ago

Lost in a land of unknown multitudes of belly aches and doctors bills

No time to watch the arena of youth passing by and not notice that it’s changing beyond repair 

Beyond repair if we speak and dare, just dare to be the spoken voice of a game gone wrong

No hope to belong

Not to belong but master the obsession

If possible if one can

If that risk be undone and life prevails  

If life

And if 

About Caroline Carey

Caroline, born in 1960, grew up with a love for the wild, for nature, for animals and to dance. She wrote poetry and stories, created theater and explored the art of ritual of which she always held a fascination for. Not being of the academic type and being passionate about mystery, immagination and myth, she chose to spend her time alone with her many animals and the passion she had for ecstatic dance whether indoors or in nature. Her imagination was as wild as her life-style and by adapting the religious education insisted on by her family, she was able to recognise her own innate connection to Spirit and the spirit guides she became strongly connected to. Mothering her six, (now adult) children, Caroline has learnt the art of play, creativity, story telling and the deep surrender and unconditional love that motherhood bestows upon us.
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