sometimes when i’ve forgotten how
and what it is I’m meant to
and panic in me rises
when everyone around me seems to know
even the great Romanian painter
joyful – sad at his table
planet head in his painterly hands
over and over saying what i am doing ?
when even he has recognised it’s this, just this
i take myself quick stick
to the great cathedral they’ve opened up in town
the one buttressed to the heavens
vaulting bones against the stars
selling off the bright salvation
and i secrete myself inside her inner sanctum
and there amongst the stainless steel
the triple tiered bins including food caddy
the le creuset stoneware
laid out according to its season
i slide my fingers across egyptian cotton
counting threads until my mind is settled
and peace swells and when the helpful boy
with freckles asks
and can I help you madam
i smile and say: no (i have been helped enough)
and in my heart soars joy
dazzling wicked without bounds
i can taste the universe
i can hear the swallows
chatting on the wire in these last days
as they make the final arrangements
for the great journey
the part of me which still doesn’t get it, suddenly shouts
(kneeling on a claret wool loop berber up in soft furnishings)
the birds smile and click
they click and smile
they say: here or gone
we live inside you
dancing always
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