219
366
some
meditations on daily practice
for Anna
something's
missed
because I'm
here
with this,
with you
with words
between
this
what-we-do
for
who-we-are
and how long?
there's no
end to it
though days
make up a year
but this is
who we are
our stim
some frail
one certainty
the day is
written
do we push
ourselves too hard
when there's
a main game
we're
neglecting?
another world
moment to
moment, so gone
and that was
the one
could've
been, could've been
do we make
weather all the same?
now where's
the pause of boredom
through which
a sun might strike?
the praise,
the blame
of months
between
the deed of
word
the broadcast
as elsewhere
approved
do we seek
approval?
of duty done
so easily
we talk into
the kettle's breath
great novels
go unwritten
so we all go
down to time
much more
than naked
the world
will soon forget our ash
our bone, the
prints of paws,
our best
impressions,
everything we
were
everything we
stood up, coaxed or tilled
the ways we
went and where was home
our last
blessing –
world's
forgetting
how then to
play the part?
workshop,
foundry
fool I've
been
to toy so
briefly
brave I was
a blaze of
mind had for the job
and then a
whittling down
to scrape, to
burn what rises
to till from
falls
and I will
have the quarry later
the many
mansions I'm to build
are also
crumbling
all the grey
of day
is in them
perfect to be
everywhere now
that's my
problem
hear piano of
the afternoon
the heart to
listen is best kept
firm between
the ribs
you take your
time and I'll take mine
I'm for the
blue beyond
and I am here
with you
it's good to have the imperative to write though, even it you ignore the imperative or if life events take over sometimes.
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