PRESENT

So quiet I'm having
a Thomas Merton moment;
a retro monastic event
contained to flourish
inside these garden walls;
inside the quiet, post departure
of my partner and kids.
My house being now all still
in the after glow of the daily
domestic clash of civilizations:
tangential wonder versus
hard wired timetabling.
Now so quiet I can almost
taste the mystic still again:
all things past, still, again;
not needing to cut or break
or reconstruct or mend;
present to the ripple light of trees,
sunlight on my skin.