Mango Walk

of summer noontime seeking to escape

for just one moment from the normal shape

of discreet instance so that we might play

a different sort of role where one could say

the angry words to those with mouth agape

that tell apart the angel from the ape

but those are for another cooler day

instead we look to work a better will

in places where the choice is not so bright

as underneath the growing midday roar

of silver needles passing by the hill

each flashing clearly in the brilliant light

so bidding us to join with them and soar

the eye drawn outward to the furthest bound

where sense and vision come together drowned

in the immensity of that deep hue

where worlds and hopes are both slightly askew

some better wisdom is what we have found

where other souls in torment run aground

justice may grant an option to renew

no mind's enough to catch at all we need

for this long voyage through the middle air

though patience grants a chance to set all right

when each has found some soil to plant a seed

and seen it nurtured given proper care

allowed to shoot its blossom into light

but leaden hours induce no better heat

than mental light and thoughts of long defeat

in bitter summer we're past the first gate

deep into the dark country bearing freight

of so much history still incomplete

all of it human both truth and deceit

all to requirement but none of it fate

so measure that we find the true belief

is what we know and give to all our folk

upon their waking to the morning chime

of bells that have not known a moment's grief

but ring the ending of inhuman yoke

and bid us all achieve a better time

that we have asked will make some things more clear

even to those for whom the worlds appear

as cheap illusions or as the abstract

daubings of visions that might not attract

the subtler gaze here in this colder air

what we must ask is that the wise compare

the truths of things and then that they just act

not all who reach this place have learnt to look

at the right angles where they might discern

those matters not for ordinary sight

yet what we find in not so secret book

for those who have the time truly to learn

is that there is each day for all some light

we drew in childhood to ensure our play

had structure in the mind that they would stay

solidly longer than the infant pap

of other games would drift through every nap

shaping the dream out of imagined clay

to make a brightness greater than the day

when ordinary life was only crap

from word to vision the true path is clear

so that you take it with eyes truly cold

through the divisions of a world in strife

with all the forces that would shred and tear

your heart and spirit as you become old

reject them all and choose the better life

of world everted by some horrid act

that frightens into childhood though the fact

is not so dangerous as to unlock

those charging monsters that good adults block

assuring you that though we've been attacked

the enemy will suffer the impact

and we will be as stalwart as the rock

the sounds of battle will not this day reach

our tender ears the voices urge stay calm

just go about your life and do your duty

yet they are silent those who ought to teach

the urgent lesson that there is no balm

to ease the pain and no way back to beauty

are a connection that we have to face

between free nature and the harsh rat race

at intersection of domestic content

where meaning  action symbol and intent

all come together in a single place

as bird and woman each concede a space

and neither knows just what the other meant

the niche that out of nature has been set

for me to watch as swallows make their home

is given proper purpose by the flight

of urgent swallows leaving as the wet

signals of springtime depart from the dome

of bluing sky and cheer  me by the sight

as all depart in wonder at the rain

not knowing what the new day might contain

but happy that they've made it past the night

just one more time in this uncertain light

no one is guaranteed surcease of pain

but all are pleased and they will not complain

out of sheer gladness at escape from blight

we are not clear just what is the true rule

with which to govern those who always tell

the human story from the underside

since they have learnt it in a horrid school

where life comes down to touch and taste and smell

and there's no room for any thought of pride

into constituent parts and serve the meat

to all the hungry cut up into neat

easily cooked servings none for the dog

but plenty to be seared upon the log

given a thorough and sufficient heat

and then served up for all the poor to eat

spreading good warmth throughout the cold and fog

so much is duty and the common task

of ordinary service and the name

we give is cruel but the purpose just

to do the action that good heart may ask

of any decent players of the game

who know the meanings of both light and trust

of normal understanding where all mirth

fades into nonsense decent folk of worth

demand some movement onto higher ground

and are not angered at the empty sound

of foolish entities announcing birth

into a world of vacancy and dearth

of absence both astounding and profound

so when we choose against the very grain

of normal love and standardizing time

there is a point when each must hold the line

reject all silly choices and the stain

that comes when every turn must lead to crime

instead look up and note the noble sign