Safe Harbour

Speak of all the ordinary kinds of happiness, the sort akin to peace:

To walk under heavy branches of bougainvillea beneath a cloud-clotted sky,

To be going homeward after a good day,

To the station, down the pitted side-street before the brewery, edged with riot-run fig trees and jasmine;

To pass all the ordinary people, just like me – every possible shade of ordinary – and we smile and nod and greet as we pass;

To have washed into this place on the back of a terrible storm, not knowing whether – somewhere – another tsunami is brewing,

But to know, at this moment, one is in a safe harbour:

This is an extraordinary happiness, and to recognise it is like riches.

dream clouds

dream clouds

Stop to smell the flowers

Stop to smell the flowers                      

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