It is as though it was an eclipse
Thousands of cows floating in the sky
Hundreds of cows
Running down the track towards me
I walk through and among the raging cows
Towards a dry-stone wall
Over the wall there is an endless strip of lavender
Up to the edge of the gorge that lies just beyond
An American lady asks me to help her climb the wall
She wants to take photographs
I am at a retreat centre
On the Strines, part of the Yorkshire Pennines
I ask the shop assistant if I could talk with the Buddha
She says he is probably working, in the garden
She says he is almost always outside
I see him sat at a table, typing on a typewriter
He gestures that he is nearly finished
He does this by using a novel sign language
Of a typewriter carriage with a flick returning
I see another eclipse type image
This time thousands of pebbles
Laid out, neat yet random, on firm and wet sands
I go back into the gift shop and say that I will wait
I come across a plastic box
There are two, torn, five pound notes
I remember tearing them at last night's party
Then throwing them joyously into the sky
There is also one note that is not torn
I recall this being a gift
From one of the many gathered well-wishers
The box also contained my car keys
And some token craft jewellery
