A stroll in the garden

A stroll in the garden

Where it is cool
           where the air is crisp
my breath exhaled
           in a mist that goes
before me
           Where it is as though
the first day of a new life
           a new arena
hearing things
           for the first time
seeing things as though
           for the first time
the birds with a new
           repertoire
the squirrels
           ever more defiant
as they leap
           from tree to tree

I hear the rustle of leaves
           see the branches
swaying gently
           as the weight is released
and in the pond
           the fish idle
lurking beneath the lily pads
           Every day is a good day
for them when there is food for all
           and on the surface
my shadow floats gently
           and I am a mystery

I wonder what the fish
           make of the stars
in the dark nights
           or of the moonlight
that shimmers above them
           they have their mysteries too
but how pleasant
           to be without doctrine
to be free of the fixed mind
           that is the root of all evil

In this pond
           perhaps foxes come
in the early hours to drink
           in the peace and quiet
I wonder what they make
           of the flowers
or do they notice the roses
           withered on the stems
or the disarray caused by
           the sharp autumn winds
pots overturned
           and debris strewn
across the lawn
           I know that ice
is expected any day now :
           at my time in life
I have learnt to expect
           everything and it rarely fails
The marvel is
           that anything lasts
but it does
           sometimes even love

John Lyons

 

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