I’m walking through the park,
on the morning of my
seventieth birthday.

Before I got up
I lay in bed in the warmth,
the quiet and the darkness of
our room for an hour or more thinking
about things, nothing special, just thinking
as I drifted in and out of sleep.

Now as I walk I can feel
the breeze blowing clear through me,
as if I am present but without a body,
it’s not frightening or anything like that,
it’s just blowing through me
rather than around me.

DF. 31-3-2021 1493


It’s warm and dark
out here this morning, just a light breeze,
as I crest the hill, my feet silent on the path,
the city lights spread out before me,
there, sitting quietly on the grass
is a fox taking in the view.

As I pass by he looks over his shoulder
and we acknowledge one another,
then he turns back to his
morning contemplation
and I continue with to mine.

DF. 21-2-2021 1468


I think of all
the empty places
where nobody ever goes,
places that slowly fill with secrets
which are tended by the spirits of the dead
until the people they belong find enough courage
to bring them home to their hearts again,
home to all of our hearts, where they
can make us strong and fearless,
as we were always
meant to be.

DF. 19-2-2021 1466


Sometimes things
only happen at the very end,
things like this poem, which came to me
as I was pushing open my front door
having returned from my morning walk.

Even things like hope for the future
can come at the end, weathered by time,
grown lean and fit through a long life
of trying and failing.

Then the hopes that remain are true hopes,
a collaboration between life experience,
trust and belief, not based on selfishness,
fantasy or denial, they aren’t even something
you can benefit from yourself, but still,
they’re a beautiful gift for your grandchildren.

DF. 18-2-2021 1465


There it is again, infinitely vulnerable,
infinitely strong, beautiful and gentle,
something that heals and coheres without recourse
to pressure, explanations, structures and rules.

Love makes whole all that is broken
and because creation is the effect of love
so is re-creation, it’s not the other way around
and I hope I don’t think I am so special that I am
beyond hope of it ever affecting me.

DF. 17-2-2021 1464