On passing the golf course
On my horse named galloping thought,
I heard a blackbird trill.
At once my horse stood still
And my heart was caught
By the bird’s song.
But that stubborn old galloping horse
Did not stop long.
And my thought ran on.
6 degrees.
The air in the wood is good.
Leaves fall
And a Blackbird’s call
Follows me through the trees.
My mind should be still
But. Like a mill
I find my mind grinds
And the bird is only half heard.
Would that I could
Be one with bird and tree
But useless thought
Has it’s hold on me.
Yet, sitting here
I can almost hear
The Blackbird
And see the beauty of each tree
Which yesterday I failed to see.
Sometimes my thoughts are caught
In a Goldfish bowl.
Around and around they go
Until, tired of useless thought
I lose myself in talk,
Or empty pleasure.
But when alone, and at my leisure
My inner talk and thought
Runs around and around again.
At times I envy them, those fish
Who know naught of men
And their useless thought!
When my mind is quiet
I find an inner peace.
I shall watch the fish go round
And allow my thought to cease,
And be content as them,
In their watery world.
On my walks
I often find
That inner talk
Distracts my mind.
Then, the breeze
Rustles Autumn leaves
Reminding me
Of eternity.
Caught up in thought
Amidst these spring flowers.
How many hours
Have I spent
Denying that our time is lent.
Then, birdsong
Breaks through my useless thought.
And I recognise
That human eyes
Do not see for long.
And that I ought
To fill my mind
With birdsong.
Yet, I find
That my brain
Oft runs like an express train
And will not be still.
But, sometimes, its just the sky
And I
And the poignancy of birdsong,
That will not last long.
K Morris - Poet 