Outside my Orbit
He wanted the cool relationship of planets
Held at predictable distances from each other
Moving in and out of proximity on pre-ordained arcs.
The friendship of planets; gas giants Jupiter and Saturn,
Of cratered moonscapes and lifeless, dry seas.
The friendship of rock enduring ages
Comets passing but never touching each other.
Influencing with gravity alone.
I want the relationships of woodland
Where we live and grow and die together
With our roots and branches intertwining as we
Exchange dreams, ideas, moments of life
Like birds, bugs and squirrels moving freely
Through the verdant home of our community
I want the relationship of woodland
Where we lay down layers in leafmould
For those who come after, where we
Make beauty, shelter and fresh air
Out of ourselves. Messy, overlapping, co-existing
Soil sharing, rain bathing and sun kissed
Together in disorderly involvement, in vibrant
Leaf rich lushness, co-created, co-living.
He is lost in space with his Uranus jokes.
I have earthy companions with thickets full of bird song,
And I know where I stand
(I didn’t make up this scenario, someone I once considered a friend has written a piece describing friendship in terms of planets, and I admit to not being impressed by the idea or their Uranus joke. When things annoy me in this way I try to emulate an oyster and grow something more attractive around the initial grit.)