River

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In the middle of two weeks’ leave from the workplace, and slowly spinning down.

I roast T-bone steaks and wash floors and thin out the vegetable garden.

I listen to the scimitar-billed Wood Hoopooes and read the news.

I paint the outer walls of the house and burn Myrrh and Rose to the New Moon.

I commiserate with canine companions feeling poorly and clean out overstuffed bedside drawers.

I look at pictures of tornado damage in the United States and read the complete works of H P Lovecraft.

I dream with a strange aura.

And, above and beneath all, I am held in wonder and awe by the recurring thought which slips across my mind every day:

That I entered the River of Time over 54 years ago, and –miribile visu – I am still progressing down it.

Pic: Original art by Wang Nong

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