Life is now charging down lanes in a personal train
Flanked by ancient monuments where plenty happened pre-parish life
Oblivious to
boundaries huddle
The secret senate of birds
still alive with sex buzz and industrial vigor
Life
now throwing fumes in rash assault
The in between places insecure
Birds dart at my wheels in protest
Ripples of the things race the windshield
Swerving hysterics wave us on down black knife tar
Such fanfare flurry within the bank awakens a Self That
Soars
Fly by Hornbeam, Holly, Holm Oak and Hawthorn, race
past the H’s
Hazel replaced in the dictionary by futile acts of
immortality
Red Backed Shrike a mere mortal that once forgotten
can’t be googled
Start with the art word sounds that sing Starling,
Wren, Song Thrush
Now the ideas we combine meet
around wires grip
Soon a Nut Hatch will be in the
palm of a child as they gaze at the embers of another rainbow ended
Pressing at buttons whilst
knowing little
The nameless animals have turned it up to compete
with the aching birth pangs of the city
They shout a shrill timorous song behind the
tweeting of pop sensation X
Now that the butterfly moves too slow for the fast
lane the whimsical lunges of the Romantics fade
We need a new urban doggerel that still shivers at
words like sunlight, leaves and dew
That sculpts in clutched pirouette with all that is
natural and true
Lyrics that dance like crazy with the pouring wonder
of this world within worlds
We don’t need to be the climatic pivot of creation only
join in
Somehow content in the vast anonymity of slow time
I want to see hedges on sky scrapers
Let us redream the better rows of our ancestors
Redeem rootless prodigal landscapes all the way up
Oh, to bump into a Linnet or two on the way to a
conference on the 15th floor
Those grass-green heroes of older poems could become
associate members
Off to a problem-solving meeting met by the chirp
whistle of a new day
A bead sprinkle of light animated by bounteous rain
drops
Lolling off leaves down glass windowed offices
Everything the right PH, might make us kinder
Like clean air to lungs, might make us bright
For the cartwheeling
star that we call Sun
A quickening light,
shines beyond this Tender country
