Is the moon lonely hanging there, Locked into endless orbit of an earth she will never meet, As she daubs a creamy glow over tangled skylines? Or is she, as the ancients said, in constant ecstatic Symphony with the stars and heavenly bodies, Eternally evolving through sympathetic movements Of dark and light? And what would be the contribution Of our dissonant lockdown emissions, the cacophony Of human dissent and disarray which appears to make Concord in any sphere an impossibility. The unblinking orbit of the moon does not bat an eyelid She has seen and heard it all before, centuries of civilisations Rising and falling with the waves she magnetises - So we are inextricably woven into rhythmic destiny - The corona of tonight's Halloween Queen Illuminates mysteries far beyond our viral confusion.
Outdoors is the new indoors According to the floral slogans Of swish shopping mall doors. Except that it always was, Always will be, More truthfully Wordlessly beautiful, More brilliantly branded, Burnt by autumnal fire, More full of surprise antlers Suddenly appearing amidst Bristling sun bronzed ferns, More illuminated by skies Caressed by the floating fingers Of carefree clouds. More embracing, encompassing All in the coil and curl Of endless extended tree arms.
Will I live to see the day We discard the mangled Manhandled monstrosities Of barbed wire and concrete, Abandon the deadly dance macabre Of devastation and destruction And join the massive banquet of life Pulsing our feet, infusing our lungs, Shining in the eyes of laughing children Who rightly recognise it as home.
Yesterday's glorious walk from Wimbledon to Teddington
