I heard the thud our cat made on the stair
But when I looked there was no creature there
Can our longing make us hear strange sounds;
Delusions,wish-fulfilment, breaking bounds?
I heard the wrens sing by the kitchen door
At least there is no cat to make them fewer
I want to make some tea but I feel stuck
I’ll fill the pan, while love my heart strings plucks
For aeons I feel I’m paralysed by grief
The caterpillars gnaw upon green leaves
I judge myself incompetent,too slow.
Yet would I judge another, wound with blows?
I feel half-way between the real, the dream
In reverie I’ll follow where love leads
