About turn
Towards symmetry
Away from
Discord and authority
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
Shrouded by the mist of the green
The curious case
Of parcels arriving
Such are the wonders of rising early
In the light of the soft glow
Overheard communications
Each and every which way
Acknowledge the beauty of keeping in touch
There is a box in the shed
With a name I ought to know
I will go investigate shortly
But for now I aim to simply sit
Sit in that new found freedom
Not known for quite a long while
Such is this love of the time
To appreciate the arrival of morning
You may soon be rising
You may have risen already
Either way let us hope
Your day welcomes you
With open arms
I myself am closing down
Listening to dark time music
Catching me with its chasms
You may soon be leaving
You may have left already
This or that, let it be
Soul and spirit
Activate mind and body
This moving-on lark
It is a tiresome old affair
Whichever way I look at it
There is no TV screen
Just as
Wendell Berry would wish it
There is a radio
Which thus far has been restricted
To Radio 3
Not that I’m a classical man
No it was Pink Floyd
Who introduced me to long playing records
The welcome card suggests
That these are exciting times
With new adventures ahead
That’s it for now
Dvorak from New World Symphony
To close the show
Three rooms downstairs
Kitchen
Sitting room
Bathroom
Two rooms upstairs
Bedroom and Study
I haven’t yet
Spent much time
In the study
I have though
Been rather longer
In the sitting room
Which looks out
Onto the green
It is where I start my day
With meditation
Also on the laptop
Updating my details
The fireplace
So I am told
Is like my younger brother’s
Mother-in-laws
But mine for now is adorned
With my Buddha