When one’s first instinct
always
is to hide
the origins of which
are
so deeply
sown
forever mapping
the ways
we inhabit
the
world
much importance is put
on the spaces
of our own making
safety as it were, in familiar surroundings
fences and
gates
comfort in knowing, in trusting
impermanence
over shamefaced
failings
when one is not
or can not
or shall
not
it’s protectionism
I suppose,
isn’t it
there is great value in quiet things
in spaces
that are green
in a savouring of simple
understanding
a thankfulness
and when the light falls
just so
the tenderness one feels
in finding
one very small
cocoon ♥