A First Step

It’s a meander, I said, a running off-course,

a glimpse caught at the corner of my eye

that drew me in, beguiled me

into a slightly wide-eyed exploration

like a horse without its blinkers.

It’s a drier landscape, a wider one.

The stones on the path are different,

smoother, yet as tricky to negotiate.

There is an implacability to the domain

that seems impervious, un-reactive to a stranger,

like nothing can affect, move, shake it.

Yet who knows, whispers the wind.

There might be accommodation in the scenery,

a possibility of green.

The meander might turn a journey

and the stranger could yet turn native.

Who knows, whispers the wind.

1

You sit on the top of the mountain and cry

And hope the days will get better

The light will get stronger

The mind will empty out

And mellowness will spread through

That the tiger will turn benign

And it will be safe to let go of its tail.

2

Despair breeds words and deathless hope

Breeds dreams of contentment and quiet

Of stilling the restless clamour in the head

Of quieting the sharpness of ambition

Of seeking cleaner, bolder, fresher pastures

Of looking the insatiable tiger in the face

And saying decisively enough is enough.

3

Someone gets hurt. Better her than me, you think

Silly silly terrible things run across your mind

Betrayal anger hurt pride overall badness

And then serendipity and the moment of clarity strikes

In the midst of an alcoholic haze

The world is turning to shit and so are you

The paradise in your soul is lost forever

The tiger has won. And its tail is still in your hands.