Truly yourself you are.
You touch me,
so nearly there,
yet far.
distance
Portmeirion
My mother said,
“Bow three times, low,
if you see the new moon
through glass.
And be sure to turn
your purse over.”
We rarely went on holiday.
We had no money.
Not far from the sea ,
an Italianate village
overhangs a Welsh river,
with statues
preserved from the past,
stone mermaids,
washed ashore.
We stroll in a dream,
eating ice-cream.
Sunshine comes and goes,
overcast by scurrying clouds.
We hope the weather will hold.
On the pavement I found
a pebble,
a ring
and a discarded wrapper
that caught the sun.
It twinkled.
Scrawled on a scrap of paper,
”The end of the world is nigh,
don’t look now but we’re watching’’
There were roses and apples
piled in a basket.
I wondered who left then there.
The bell rings in the tower.
We went back to a cheap hotel.
It was over.
My lover is away.
My lover is often away
but it makes no distance.
I dreamed of my father last night,
we wandered room to room
as he shared his wisdom.
“How can we believe what they tell us now
when we know they have lied before.
Its all manipulation,
since 1984 and before.
Think about Aldous Huxley.
He knew.
That man had vision.”
When I was a child I dreamed of flying,
flying above the blue curve of a bay,
probably flying homeward.
Outside my window
is a wall, overgrown,
with moss and ivy.
Goodnight room,
goodnight window,
goodnight moon.
Hello Cupid and Psyche.
Moving Wheels
the taxi drivers leaned lazily on their cars
where they waited by the rank across the road
suppressed by summer heat
in the avenue of trees, full of cackling rooks
who spoke in secret code
i was working near a window
in the heart of town, looking down
on passing cars and buses
slow moving wheels,
in the bustling, heat baked, town
i was dreaming i suppose, after lunch,
when i saw them, slowly crossing, arm in arm
an old couple, threatened by the cars
it made me tense to watch
in case they came to harm
they looked like tired lovers
grey haired and bent with time
it was a sudden shock to me
to see them from this distance
knowing they were mine
no longer young, now fragile,
clinging fast together,
on quiet cautious feet,
my fathers so protective arm
made their tenderness complete
when did this happen?
when did they become so old?
it was only yesterday,
rashly dodging traffic,
impetuous and bold,
my father was always
rushing on ahead
with a sudden jolt i realised
as tears welled in my eyes
it wont be long now
before they both are dead
A Love Story ~ Rosa & Arjuna
Two lovers
separated
by the stretch
of open ocean
endless sky
moonlight passing
day to night
Arjuna’s window pointed west
While Rosa’s looked out to the east
Of their love they both were sure
Only water lay between them
Only time would be the test
Whether love could long endure
They had vowed to watch the moon
Each one in their lonely room
Far apart, but close in heart
They watched the silver face
Passing in and out of sight
Held aloft in lovely light
Counting moons
The months passed by
In time Rosa ceased to cry
She had now become enamored
Of watching starlit nights
And changing skies
Counting moons
The years passed by
Arjuna drowned his tears in books
Slowly he began to write
He described the stars
And all the glories of the night
He described all she saw
As they watched the sky together
Together yet so far apart
They reached a sweet contentment
Beyond the reach of lovers art
Contemplating all they saw
Did they ever meet again?
If fate was kind I think they did.
Where it was I cannot say.
May the light of heaven lead them.
The moon has never shone so bright
As I saw it shine tonight.
The Dreaming Path 