Ground ArtSpace, Hull, Feb 2018
Ground, I’ve found,
Is a forest-y thing.
Sometimes I’ve taken a deep breath
Before going in,
Not knowing who’ll be there
Or what’s happening.
But each time, every time,
There’s been a welcoming,
A friendly cup of tea,
Sit and be,
Join in, or not, it’s alright;
A gentle generosity.
In this odd, old building
Like it’s standing at an angle
With bits of beams stuck together
And the walls almost curving round
Holding everything, tenderly.
This nest of a place
Where ideas and wranglings
Can wrestle and grow.
The funny noises,
The Ground sounds.
The bellows and the belly roars,
The giggles, the gaggles
Of mammaly creatures
Whooping and cajooping.
The bang ker-ching ting ting
Of music-ing
And drumming-ing
And feet walloping
The paint-stained floor.
The spaces in between,
The times to draw breath
To flop on a sofa
Or take up a pen
And slowly, slowly scrawl
Something or nothing
To mebbe go on the wall
Or to give as a gift
Just to make someone smile 😊
This place is a grace place
An ace place,
Where every face has beauty,
Every age has worth,
Every quirk is cuddled.
In this damaged, dented building
We all belong.
Whether we feel strong
Or stranded or not quite landed,
Where our souls,
Like wild little animals
Can cease to be scared
But just run around and play.
This peeling, healing, feeling place.
This Ground.
Where it’s safe to tread
And be found.