50

I have no more idea of why than I do of why not

All I can say is that the choice was limited

And the opportunities for foraging were scarce

Yet, at that time of life, I was a business winner

I had studied mathematics and statistics

I was au fait with the odds, the chances of success

David against Goliath was a role I often played

Sense and sensibility having not yet been offered

But, just as the sunlight falls, on the painted twigs

I saw a shaft, an opening, a pathway, a reflection

Of colour and beauty, of vibrancy and joy

And that's it, I had no more idea of why than that

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49

I am at one, here in the present

Stoking up the fire with logs

From under cover out in the frost

I was the lucky one, then as now

Finding a shoulder to rest my arm on

Whispering sweet nothings; nothing no more

In search of symmetry

I recognise that the wood storage boxes

Need their own force of realignment

And where did that fine light go

Did it sink back into the heavens

So I suppose; suppose nothing no more

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48

I did take the photograph

Yet already I know

The light will not be the light I saw

The dust-mites will not be picked up

As they dance in the light-beams

Neither will my yellow socks be apparent

Nor my Ralph Lauren daffodil rugby shirt

Which reflects my peace of the moment

And so, for clarity, I will write to you

Of snow on the neighbours tiled roof

Whose curved ridge is the last line 

Before the shimmering blue-silver sky

I will tell you that the doves, and the crow

Enjoy your mix of bacon rind and muesli

In the wind, and cold, of mid-winter

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47

The afternoon is almost over

Pink light graces the sky

Settled snow, on leaves and branches

Operatic music stills to naught

He wonders

Not what would have happened

Had he followed a grander course

Been a sharp-suited risk taker

But with ears ringing continuously

Even as quietness falls

He recognises, happily

That this is the kind of peace to care for

He was going to say quite happily

But he stopped, thought a while

Then upgraded the rating, as though

He still worked for Standard & Poor

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46

Such a light falls on the stove

The ashes glow stronger than the embers

The flames disappear into the fiercer sun

Yet outside, the skies are pitch black

The ground is covered with snow

Seems it would be good

To roast an old chestnut

As flies of white ash pay homage

To yesterday evenings blizzard

The quiet meditation

And the harmonious chanting

Smooth a path for any further revelation

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