To walk in deep, soft, dry sand
Is to make slow progress
Although of course it gifts you time
To trace back through previous footsteps
There was a moment, back there
When I had to turn around both ways
To pull me out of the stupor
But where did I go to find such nothingness
Yes, I was nowhere with no one
I wasn’t even with myself
Such was the separation from this realm
Of time, and life, and lovers ever after
I am here
I am waiting
I have given away
Most all I can
But I am ready
To pitch in
With whatever skills
Life has taught me
Here in the reed grass
On the sand dunes
Between land and beach
On the Machair
As they name it
In the Outer Hebrides
Where I also learnt
The beauty of solitude
It’s what you learnt
During the life you led
Which helped you to move forward
Days, weeks, months and years
Of playing football instead of going to school
Helped you to fall in love with the beautiful game
Damming streams, scrumping bonfire wood
And following the hunt all showed you
That change can be dangerous, and violent
A seven year indentured apprenticeship
In parallel with attendance at technical college
Gave you a trade plus a lifetime of understanding
The Open University with several summer schools
Took you out of the simple country boy
Into a land of intellectuals, also intentioned lovers
Giving up one good life for one other
Led you into a life of struggle and joy
Neither of which have you yet given up on
And so you sit in the beach car park
After a full English breakfast at the golf club
Wondering just what you are going to learn next
It’s not what you are
It’s what you are not
Also that you know
The distance between them
Is vast, immense
Such that to envy
Or to struggle to achieve
Is as powerless or as pointless
As is trying to overcome
The craving for tobacco
It’s what you are
Not what you are not
So forget completely
About talking clearly
In educated English
Instead
Pull together your energies
Push out your clear focus
Into the deeper realities
Of just where you are now
Was that you
Looking out
Over the eighteenth green
On captain’s day
In midsummer
Or did you never share
Such joy or celebration
With your fellow players
Choosing instead
Always to hit the long drive
Is there surprise
In your eyes
That you came here
For breakfast
With strong coffee
The egg
Fried just right
And mushrooms
With the extra portion
Saying something about generosity
