Detours

It’s nearly dark on the common.
My mind swinging:
now
  casting ahead   to an unseen goal,
now
  feeling   nearby trees
  sensing  gullies jumped
then
  mind  in-turning.

Look: I’ve passed aside my temple glade
unheeded;
veered    blankly
round paths where you and I had walked
in precious silence.

The dark re-enters me.

In dark I’ve seen despair
have flown astride a stag
been blessed
by buzzard’s wing.

Time now for thought ceasing:

Time to feel, time to be.


28 November 2006