How quiet does one have to be
To reach that silent space
Or that place of boundless ego
Yet also to have been here
In the there, in the then
To sit in the spa yard
To follow the leaf with the eye
Thread thoughts
Of nothing going nowhere
Beside the still so so settled pool
Almost found, almost at one
How far does one have to go
To reach that place beyond
Or that place before
Yet also to be there
In the here, in the now
To walk on the peat moor
To squelch in the bog
Wipe the fast-falling snowflakes
From the worried brow
Watch the gushing stream
Almost lost, almost home
