Parallel

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At some point we were apart
together,
running tracks along the same line,
traversing the spine
of the world
and as we lay and curled
through all the good
and the bad weather,
through time
those tracks
in the distance merged
as close
as they possibly could

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End of Route?

National Cycle Network
Town Centre 10 mins
Cycle Lane Look Right
(Mon – Fri 7 – 10 am 4.00 -6.30 pm)
Tramway look both ways
Share the Path
Please keep your dog on a short lead
Yield to Bikes
Local Sustrans volunteers help to look after this path
More support is always needed
Avoid route in wintry conditions
Cyclists Dismount
Turning Traffic give way to pedestrians and cyclists
Dangerous cycle lane
Dismount and Push
Cycle track closed ahead
No cycling
End of Route

Imaginary Snow

They say you should dance
as though no one is watching
and you should sing
as though no one is listening
so why not build snowmen
when imaginary snow is glistening
if your worlds collide
and seek out that dream inside
to prevent you falling apart?
Build up your courage,
and be only guilty
of following your heart.

Lost Cat

May2018

 

 

 

 

 

I searched through empty rooms
hearing always the purr
though I found nothing but empty space,
little lost lumps of fluff and fur,
so I stopped and stayed within the gloom.

I looked around at forgotten art
seeing always a smiling face
and seeing there a steady hand,
each line lining an accurate trace,
joy returned to my heavy heart.

But now the child’s drawing must do
in place of masterpieces of old
as my searching mind grows slow
and the warmth within me grows cold
to remind me of the lost cat I once knew.

Early Retirement

 

When I first started climbing this mountain, I’d only a vague idea where the summit was, and my map was rubbish. I’d heard a few people had climbed it before but I didn’t know any of them personally then, they were just people in story books to be wondered at.

When I began hillwalking way back in the day, my first pair of boots really hurt. I mean, really hurt. I was later to find out that they were just wrong for me: wrong size, cheap leather, rubbish soles, everything designed to torture your feet. I almost gave up before I’d even started.

I went back to the shop to discuss my problems and discovered Goretex. Thank God for Goretex. My subsequent sets of footwear were slippers in comparison and I knocked off the smaller peaks as though on a summer stroll. This one’s been tough though despite the better footwear, and I even managed to get a better map though you might never guess it from the number of wrong turns I’ve taken. Still can’t quite make out the summit with the cloud and mist coming and going.

It’s not as bad as tramping in New Zealand where the maps had a helpful warning, ‘subject to change’, written across the contours. I think even Mt Cook had changed height the year before I was there! Not much fun when the mountains change around you as you try to climb the bloody things. Made it interesting I suppose, more of a challenge.

Back home now though and this bloody climb I started so long ago. Now almost everyone I know has mastered its peak, though most of them got some sort of chairlift to the summit, lucky bastards. I’m going to have to walk all the way on my own, under my own steam, as always.

But maybe not. When I did my mountain leadership course I was always told to know when to turn back. Getting to the top wasn’t more important than you or your party’s safety and, if you enjoyed walking, wherever you got to was going to be enjoyable anyway. And there were usually good views from any height as long as you stopped to look at them.

So I stop on the ridge and have a good look around me. A large bird of prey swoops past, hunting for its young family, paying no attention to me. I can see a small herd of deer down in the glen, absent mindedly grazing, breath just visible in the cool air. It’s quiet, perhaps faint noises from other parties climbing ahead, and below. I neither see them nor care any more if I’m ahead of them or behind.

I think I can see the summit rising above the clouds in the distance, but it’s actually really nice here, right where I am. And besides, my knee’s twitching a bit and the blister on my right heel has burst. It’s been a good climb this far, not many even get onto the ridge far less scramble along to the top. So maybe I should just go back down. After all, I heard there’s a storm coming from down south, snow and blizzards likely. I wouldn’t want to be stuck up there caught up in the middle of that.

 

(Daily Prompt: Not everyone want to stay in it for the long haul.)

Brick

April2018

I’m a brick
set within a wall
thick within a church
though have little part at all
in quiet prayers
or peaceful layers of robes and gown.

I do have faith
in the master though,
as he set down his hod
and began his toil
though he could have set me any place:
within the soil to form a road,
or to take the heavy load
of the sad solitude of a prison cell.

We, my brethren and I, cannot tell
which setting will be ours or our last
as, though set fast, for now,
our mortar can be worked loose
and we, in turn, set free.

I’m just a brick
and whatever this building is
I can definitely see
I am a part of it.