The castle lawn is being held
by rows of ancient oaks,
while birdsong breaks the quiet night
that’s held by silent stars.

The water’s edge holds the pond
that mirrors clouds and sky,
while roots of trees are being held
by song lines, down below.

Strong, unmoving, generous and deep;
What does it mean to be held like that?
Without command to be anything else
than what is yours to be.

Cradled by the elements,
in Nature’s great way
of holding space
for majesty.