Mango Walk

the words come clear by thought they're not unkind

and say those things that wisdom would intend

in careful thought there's nothing here to mend

so to say truth we're in no sort of bind

no trap no evil case has been defined

nor have we with fell beings to contend

our choice is clear the task is to defend

the facts about the kingdom of the blind

where anyone would go to find the pain

within the heart of he who built the fort

is not for me right now to speak or say

enough to note the hauteur and distain

for those who came up just a bit too short

or did not understand when it was day

no reason for your heart to get the joke

we took the road and followed every twist

found villages that  time seemed to have missed

and watched the sun come out from autumn's cloak

into a world we wanted to evoke

for younger selves but that could not exist

where light and warmth burnt off the silly mist

and foolish wishes turned into thin smoke

smile now at folly and give measured praise

for what must be and grant the purpose set

that we must give a lead to urgent youth

who wish to set the turning world ablaze

as we did once before we learnt regret

and found our tiny corner of the truth

careful with the measure but still short

of what was needed to assure the mind

that we moved forward certain and not blind

grounded in reason never to abort

without good cause ours not the plan to thwart

but to complete the task we were assigned

tie up the knots and leave others to find

what judgment they would in the final court

instead we tread the boards in heady dance

uncertain of the beat and of the cure

while far above us scud the autumn clouds

driven by winds we know not ruled by chance

under a law that is far less than pure

that leads us all towards the cold grey shrouds

after the rain i hear the ravens call

one sits a moment on the highest crown

of autumn hemlock then it wings on down

into the valley bringing on the fall

of hanging drops the evergreens are tall

in pale sunlight the day chooses to frown

upon my actions leaves are turning brown

on the wet lawn this cycle fulfills it all

inside the cat comes up to sniff my feet

fearful of noises from the great outside

but still desiring to know what is there

the sounds and silences of our small street

muffled so easily when we are inside

but sharp and carrying in the open air

steam on the mountain road just after dark

we've brought our geyser with us this one time

and laughter in the moment seems a crime

which choice is easy though the answer's stark

you have to wait until the proper bark

get back inside and get back on the climb

when you get home you will wash off the grime

and wonder why the effort left no mark

we pass those places where the words of craft

are spoken gently where old wisdom sits

and are not moved we can no longer stay

safe in our skins to do that now is daft

instead we joke and battle with our wits

september and the butterflies still flit

from bloom to bloom trees manage still to sway

in gentle time in nature's smoothest play

while i am still alive to smile at it

my heart and mind have found the truest grit

is not in words nor in what good folk say

but in the patterns of the everyday

in ready laughter and in honest wit

there are no angels waiting for my soul

nor gods in the beyond with secrets grand

ready to weigh my spirit for its worth

i take this journey for a single whole

the good i do must come from a kind hand

and honest tears are good with honest mirth

mischief is made by those who hate all peace

and want us all within hard walls and gates

with loudest words and after harsh debates

they'll order silence and demand we cease

turbulent thoughts that challenge their caprice

command each soul into narrow estates

and keep each heart distinct from its best mates

just so that love and light may both decrease

they call it summer when they see it snow

mistake  the cold for some redeeming balm

and bid us all accept the freezing rain

out of the north claiming they see it glow

with ready warmth they tell us all is calm

that all is gentle that we're past all pain

go up the rise and look down on the sea

ten miles away the moon is setting now

this is a moment which will long allow

warm recollection both of bird and tree

there's nothing here right now would disagree

that time is perfect but we can't endow

life and eternity instead the plough

pushes it under where we cannot see

lost to us all and so left far behind

are all those things only half understood

but not then wanted since the childish voice

is not the speaker for the full-grown mind

nor can we tell yet what is truly good

when we are forced to make a final choice

a moment's vision just a little nudge

of seeing what the normal eye can't see

in moving time just so we might agree

on one fast rule but no you will not budge

from  that position nor will you begrudge

what we assume is given us for free

to stay or go just so each has to be

the honest broker and the silent judge

this course of pain is now so well begun

you take the measure and devise a trap

knowing that soon the true moment will come

since each desire has in us one swift run

a journey noted well upon the map

and valued now at a gigantic sum

i miss the master of the golden house

who has gone down to view the changing tide

or so i'm told perhaps to soothe my pride

for some new message now i must espouse

before the last new flame we have to douse

in the new dawn there is no place to hide

this anger at being taken for a ride

or knowledge that i'm smaller than a mouse

vision is lost the message all unsent

when signal flame no longer seems to  leap

above the hills nor on the mountain peak

can any see just where the last word went

now no one has a single hearth to keep

and in the clamour none would dare to speak