without thoughts

without thoughts

without words

how do i make

my protestations

but it’s what you wanted isn’t it

on this

thoughtless

friday morning

yet to travel

to dhamma dipa

in the presence of beauty

is itself a blessing

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in that one moment

in that one moment

the look

looking back on a lifetime of lack

as all human reflectors must

except for those days

of the blue sky mind

on the dingle peninsula

on the Island of sark

in that one tv moment

the look

of anger

of achievement

of solitary being

of betrayal

of love

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where there are shadows

where there are shadows

there is light

even in darkness

our bodies can feel

and with such safety of presence

we can walk out on wet sands

we can prepare for the theatre

which comes into our lives

the warm air of kindness

is aware of our love

a blue sky mind

of headland meadows

is welded seamlessly

into our thoughts

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in that moment of memory

in that moment of memory

where we grasp for the salt

in the sea’s fresh estuary air

sat here on the quayside

with prawns and peroni

in the dreamy afternoon sun

then to step out through

fragrant parklands and gardens

towards the brick floor courtyard

where we approach

the ever so so solid doorway

into the presence of love

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at six-forty-five or thereabouts

at six-forty-five or thereabouts

i hear the geese

on their way perhaps

from their night time

place of safety

to the daytime feeding grounds

or because it is warming up

allegedly

or are they beginning

their long flight

back to summer in the arctic

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