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