A View From Loch Fyne

Added on Monday 22 Oct 2012

You don't need this! Said the water
I nodded, trying to fix on something through
three different layers of cloud that gathered
where two svelte mountains meet.

It seemed the mountains had
gathered those silken wisps
the way 2 people might step forward
bringing the ends of a sheet together.

On a ladder of moments I climbed,
out of my own eyes, out of the side
garden by the oyster place and into
something other than what it means
to behold. How UTTER things are, how
stark, how silent, how graciously alive.

As if between two skies a bird skeened
across the loch but sky couldn't care less,
it just sat there and sat and went on admiring
itself in loch's mirror; and to be honest,
you couldn't blame sky, I mean, imagine it were you.

Then it came, the idea of how petty it is
to fail to recognise that something else
is at work, some vast and total intelligence
of which we know but nought.

You still don't need this! repeated the water
You must make merriment, dance and sing!
Said the opal light. Get thee a something with
a someone, time is late.
Said the bee.

Look water, I said, i know that you mean well
and all but will you just mind your own
dewey business, I am fine.

Then the light chimed in on my side
got all heavy on the water and lots
Flew between them, rain, I think.

Ah but now look here, the truth is,
I don't want anything,
I muttered.
This just caused further argument.
I couldn't look on loch or light or bee
then forest started at me, all jostled,

fighting for my attention, and so I
turned to the big mountain and he
gave me the answer I'd most wanted
by saying absolutely nothing.