These Days II

These days, words flow from me
like blood-letting, I have
struck the rock, it split,
and out flow milk and
honey in an endless
perfumed stream.  I am
living the dream in dream-
land - I handed myself
off the ship, walked the
gangplank and made
landfall.  Here I explore
my surroundings, the flora
and fauna, the vegetation,
the high places, the good
places, the shady places.
Manna falls at my
feet in the morning.
I have gold-coin-
hoards which should
see me through till I
hit the boards and 
I hear the earth fall
heavy on my timber.
Meanwhile, in my
last season, I am involved
with drainage and ditches,
with earth in the palm, with
aching muscles and heart-
wishes, with vivid thoughts
of where I began, and all those
who are not.  I shoulder the beams
of my own disappointment,
my sorrows I mulch
under the plants.
I know no more of why it is,
than I did when I was young
and found my quest in
books, waiting for the secret
to come.  When I saw her
at the gate, I ran
and ran, down the hill,
with joy and gratitude.
Maybe she waits for me
there, by the loch, in
the quiet wood where the
deer come and eat the flowers.
Lump in the throat, tears
well at the eyes.  I came,
I was here, I went, unknown
and nowhere wise - I used
what powers I had, I sung
my strange song in strange
places, I knitted myself
together when I came apart,
I carted my own body
home when I died in the day.
The wind is in the north today
coming from the caps of snow -
make hay while the sun shines,
there is nothing else to know.

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