On behalf of the survivors of our recent retreat I proudly present our compilation (by no means complete) of poems written and performed on the final day.
Life and death
“Like the foot before and the foot behind in walking.”
An image floats before me; a two headed Janus
A coin spinning, like a life lived,
A precarious balance of cause and effect.
Returning as it must, to the Great Reality, to eventually stop.
Coming to rest in the eternal flow of all things.
Ever present, I know you well,
Do you know me?
Of course you’ve taken from my life so far
And given in equal amounts
With faceless visitations
With no vexation nor malice
Without you what would be prized or of value?
Instead a meaningless sequence of perpetual happenings….
I am a library book
Nearing the end of my chapter
Soon I will be returned to the library
Put back on the shelf
Waiting to be borrowed again and re-read.
On the clock or with the breath
“The spiritual being with the physical presence”
I know where I’m going
Who’s coming with me is up to them
Out of love, duty or desire
To Buckland Beacon in a jar
A John Leach one I hope
To be scattered blown or washed away
Back to the elements with Dad, Gran and Granddad
But not yet Mum.
In the zendo
Wrapped in birdsong
all is still
We all leave
On my last walk
Passing white flowers
And sheep bones
I meet the empty swing
When I cycle
Off that cliff
Upon my banjo
Play a riff.