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, of beauty, of vibrancy, of 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; I 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 the cold, of mid-winter

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47

The afternoon is almost over
Pink light graces the sky
Settled snow, on leaves, on 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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