I take myself off
It is a pleasure of mine
Sometimes, when reading
A place will come to mind
And in a flash I am there
Breathing in the beauty
Not always is the place a place
Sometimes a person, with a perfume
Earlier, while reading Trying Not To Try
I flashed back to Madhyamaka
A Buddhist institution
A favourite of many visits
But tomorrow, yes
Where might tomorrow take me
Turning things over
Over time I turn things
Before I let them settle
Scared by the dream I had
Booking into an hotel
Wearing only a towel
After being refused at a B&B
Fearful of being left
To fend for myself
Rocking at the thought
Of such hopeless exposure
I would travel
Half-way
Around the world
To then travel
That whole half-way
Back again
I would listen
To Peter Gabriel
Over
And over again
One day
I might find a rhythm
Sunlight, and shadows
Interstellar overdrive
Method in the meadows
What turns life to live
Crystals in the windows
Stillness still to decide
Reflections over glass bowls
What turns past times to pride
Bright light over shoulder
Stain glass on the side
Awkward on the boulder
What sinks love on the slide
On the Sunday afternoon
With a wine gum
And the prospect
Of an evening at the pictures
On the Monday afternoon
With a bowl of cereal
And the prospect
Of shopping online
On the Saturday morning
With a hiatus
And the stubbornness
Of a dull mind