i do have a photograph
to continue the story
a mother leaning on a wall
watching her son playing
how we are fascinated
by the distance
between those seen
and those not seen
Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
i do have a photograph
to continue the story
a mother leaning on a wall
watching her son playing
how we are fascinated
by the distance
between those seen
and those not seen
i do not have a photograph
to begin this journey
instead the sounds
of a lively flowing river
possibly in spate
sets us on our way
it is springtime or early summer
on a saturday much as this
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
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
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