West Stormont Woodland Group

West Stormont
Woodland Group

Scottish Charitable Incorporated Organisation (SCIO) SC051682

Join us today to bring Taymount Wood and Five Mile Wood into community ownership

Poetry & Stories

The gifts that these woods give are reflected in the amazing work that you all create. Thank you to all who contribute. We are determined to be involved in the future of these beautiful woods through our Community Ownership project.

The Cure For It All

Go gently today, don’t hurry
or think about the next thing. Walk
with the quiet trees, can you believe
how brave they are—how kind? Model your life
after theirs. Blow kisses
at yourself in the mirror

especially when
you think you’ve messed up. Forgive
yourself for not meeting your unreasonable
expectations. You are human, not
God—don’t be so arrogant.

Praise fresh air
clean water, good dogs. Spin
something from joy. Open
a window, even if
it’s cold outside. Sit. Close
your eyes. Breathe. Allow

the river
of it all to pulse
through eyelashes
fingertips, bare toes. Breathe in
breathe out. Breathe until

you feel
your bigness, until the sun
rises in your veins. Breathe
until you stop needing
to be different.

Poem by Julia Fehrenbacher, contributed by WSWG member Deirdre Joy

A selection of poems created at Leila Mayne's Meditative Workshop in Taymount Wood.

Even in the quietest moment
It’s surround- sound
Birds chirping repetitively
Oblivious to nearby tweets and tap tap from neighbouring feathered friends And you think you are alone
But wait, a twig snaps, a cone thuds Earthward
Ears strain beyond the gentle pitter patter of a passing shower
To focus on more distant sounds of humanity
The deep rumbling clatter of a passing train, the drone of a passing boy racer
The gentle rising tempo of acceleration then the whoosh as it passes on its journey It’s all happening in our quietest moments
The passing voices of dogwalkers unturned to their environment.

The melodic tones of the birds
Different pitches, trilling, whistling, songful
The backdrop of distant traffic
Then the roar of thunder outdoing all the other sounds
The splatter of raindrops followed by barking and voices
More shrill cries and a dominant constant and repetitive song
The crunch of feet on returning to base.

Tall fissured spires rise to the skies
Of opalescent blue, grey and yellow
Striding over the mossy, stumpy forest floor
Of scattered cones, logs and tousled feathery grass.
The lilting, warbling, chittering peace
Against distant thunder, train and laughter
As a baffled dog, confused by stranger presence,
Gave layer upon layer to the sounds around.

back again
my favourite stump
sitting here in silence
while the birdsong
ascades round me

back again
my favourite stump
a chilly wind makes
me shiver and
my stiff knee aches

back again
my favourite stump
papery needly dry underneath
moss and the tang
of wood sorrel

back again
my favourite stump
trees a filigree around me
branches in a fretwork
peacefulness in the rain.

As I stood beneath the
cloaked branches of the fir
I heard the trilling birdsong
chorusing in the trees
In the distance the
droning sounds of the passing cars, little did they
know the rustling of the
leaves as the rain hit them.
Thunder rolling past, dog
barking, voices calling.
I am drawn nearer to the
russet-coloured lichen
against the dark brown
bark peeling back from the