Shades of Green

14 July 2010

The Angel Said
Count yourself lucky,
A good life, a good husband, a great garden,
The list went on.

I sit now
In the mornings
Propped up on pillows in my big bed
Perusing the skyline across the fens,
The shades of green trees make.

It came to pass
In this one small life
Not fortune or fame,
I am indeed lucky,
But Something Good:

A life lived to the full,
Knowing finally contentment
Along with Weltschmerz,
The suspension bridge across,
Like one crossed in childhood, across another Thames*.

I am part of the small work**
As well as The Big.
When called, I come,
Hands ready, at arms, at ease.
Once upon a time I was a Leading Wren.

Now, Gaia sings Her Lament
And we trudge behind,
Her long row of soldiers
Bearing forks and spades
To clean up The Mess
We have made.

We come in shades of green
And Pan howls in the shadows.
I murmur something about Findhorn
And His Green Eyes pop out:
None too soon, sweetheart.

Ah, shit, how will we manage
Without A Re-enchantment of the World?
Bloody hard work
Even with Bloom and Dawkins*** on the case
With other modern magicians.

The lavender blossoms
In my Victory Garden;
The bees rebound , the dragonflies dart.
Hermes the yellow-eyed prince
Surveys our domain. Content.

*London, Ontario, Canada. Suspension bridge across the Thames at Thames Country Golf Course near Oakridge Acres where I grew up in the late Fifties and Sixties.
**The One Work, in this case, spiritual-cum-environmental.
***William Bloom of Glastonbury-esotericist; Richard Dawkins-scientist.
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