I went to my secret grove last night
where the trees grow fair
high in the hills,
where the stars are bright
I heard a sound
and turned around
toward the granite chair
You were sitting there
a cup of honey in your hand
and flowers in your hair
Though the grove is secret
it’s a gift that we can share
in the dreaming land
I made you welcome there
In love
I used to give,
and ask for nothing
in return.
It was a selfless gift I shared
expecting no rewards.
Now I need a different love.
I’m tired of purity.
Now I stand and ask
for love,
the love that I can give.
i walk through Hyde Park
as dawn rises to morning
my head still full of music, trance dance,
spins in the freshness of early risen light
i head for the river, embankment, bridges
passing a cafe window i catch her glance
a smile, she turns away to her coffee
the image of her profile engraved on my retina
i walk on and never forget her
such are the tricks of chance and no chance
i watch the arc of a pigeons flight
a feather drops at my feet
a second gift from this city
the only gift i can touch
The Dreaming Path 