At the bottom of the garden

If I become visible, making my presence known through sounds and movements,
The fauna falls silent, it seems distant, non-existent,

In the dojo at the back of my garden,
Sitting on the cushion,
Not a movement, not a sound,
The birds sing incessantly,

I can almost feel their wings beating on my shoulder,
When they brush against the walls or land on the roof.

©FJ April 2025
Recueils / Participation/

Groupes De Pratique (Audio, Sessions)

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