sitting silently

upon these  rocks

above the cold

of a quarried box

across the angled

faces steep

watching shadows

slowly creep

and the darkened smile

of a fracture cracked

all through this hill

but here – where hacked

it is exposed

to the wild winds

at this look-out –

but look within

it runs and runs

all along these views

the length of the hill

and for more – continues

so look into

the mountain’s rent

below the manes of pines

by the cold winds bent

for the very heart

of the world is dark

but listen – above

sings the bright skylark

and blue harebells

so very sweet

lie here scattered

all around my feet

nodding with

the summer breeze

for ill winds blown out

now all is at ease

until mid-day

will the shadows shrink

then they’ll grow cold and long

with the black of ink

but until then

under all weathers

I’ll just sit here – in purple

among the heather.

Sensei says – with a touch of sarcasm: ‘fault-finding is so unlike you’!

Do we not all seek perfection?

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