Ancient Ground – a poem by Franny Bryant-Scott

Ancient Ground 
 	 
I step through and stumble
on the tumbled rocks, the lichen
that lines the narrow footpath
between ancient boundary walls.

I caress the old stones, the shapes.
This one was a millstone,
that a threshold, there a food trough.
And then they were a wall.

And then rubble in a field
and again a wall. Today shaded
by oaks, they shift under my feet.
Wall, rubble, millstone; thresholds all.

Spy the ruin behind the iron fence -
that is to say, behind the iron
that was a bed frame then
a grape trellis then a gate.

Who can say what is a ruin
in a land that knows
how to use everything forever?
Tiny orchids bloom between the rocks.

Iron and stone were my ancestors too.
Strong enough to weather, to change,
to move aside when oaks
and orchids need a place to root.

I am the offspring of bed frames,
of millstones and rubble and walls.
Shall I become next a gate?
Or a trellis, threshold or path?

Franny Bryant-Scott is a Canadian poet, artist, art therapist, and interfaith spiritual companion living on the ancient land of Crete, Greece. Her writing is an attempt to meet, grapple with, and embrace her experiences as a human being living in a more-than-human world. Ever since she created objects and rituals of remembrance for wild birds and family pets as a small child, the transformative power of the arts to hold both the beauty and suffering in our lives has been at the core of all of her work.