Morning Walk

Every morning after meditation I walk

Rain overnight leaves puddles 

A Blackbird showers itself with vigour

I stop, enjoying the spectacle

Both taking pleasure

On through the tranquil village

Every house named

A clue to it’s owners dreams

One is called ‘ Mole Meadow ‘

Wind in the Willows perhaps?

I think I would like the occupants 

After the houses the lane narrows

The local bus murmurs towards me

I step on the bank allowing passage

The driver waves acknowledgement

Our eyes meet, we both smile

She has a happy smiling face

Presently I reach the river at the ferry

The ferry is no more, just an old pub

The river is dark, flowing with power

I turn to return, musing on metaphor

Near the small shop is a village pond

Two shy Moorhens in peaceful residence

This winters day sunny and so, so mild

All around life is impatient to spring

My thoughts return to the river

There before me and after me

Buddhists believe in rebirth

Continuity in some form I believe

Possibly the nutrient for a new tree 

On that tree will sit a new Blackbird

I am happy with that thought  

It will be enough