Land Stewards

solidarity with peasant farmers to hold onto land,

bought off by royalty and stolen by greed,

we ache to find new ground in the midst of the old,

sacred sanctuary protects the space untold;

my mind sharpens like a bull finch snarling,

goshawk moving between nests of delicate air,

every movement expresses time to be called upon,

in the twinkling summer, we shimmer like streams;

agribusiness buying off farms and destroying the biodiversity,

putting monocultures and poison cartels before preservation,

every seed germinates mechanically like tapeworms in stomachs,

eating us from the insides as we struggle to harvest,

the fruits of our labour or the toil of our struggles,

rarefied birds swimming in red potholes of money,

dispossession nor colonisation entered the jewelled frame,

foresaken mysteries clambering for redemption;

landworkers in alliance forming protective rings of love,

to rewild, regenerate and rediscover the meanings

to simple, humble lives that serve the interests of all,

raising up marginalised voices and shielding from the storm,

cartwheel jubilance like hover flies on cow dung,

wishing consumate reflection to broker legitimate fun.