This, in 52 words is a description for Sacha Black of my ideal work place. With requested pics. In between the pics is a 52 word poem, added this minute as an afterthought. Two for the price of one.
I need a chair and a table and a laptop and an armchair for a dog and a window for light and a radiator for when it’s cold.
Birdsong beyond the window is nice and trees bending in the wind and at night a host of stars.
The last things aren’t necessary.
There’s a dog in the chair by the window,
And a cat on the sill in the sun,
There’s a rose on the terrace in full bloom,
And the breeze sighs that summer’s begun.
All I need is enclosed in this still space,
My silence within makes it my place.
What counts is the sun,
The moon, the stars and the sky,
The rain, the green grass, the trees,
Birdsong, windsong, childsong,
And water lapping on the shore.
What counts is compassion,
Quiet and respect.
To watch and listen in wonder
And to let things be.
What counts is not to pick the flower,
To add to our possessions
No matter how many lives we condemn
To slavery and darkness.
What counts is the spark that shines
In the limpid depths of a child’s eyes
Of all the beings that share this earth
The spark of life and love
That blazes warm and slow, eternal fire
For those with eyes to see.
The need to possess
Or to watch the glittering vacuous life of others
The happy few
To touch and hold,
To turn a bright object to the light
To put it down then
And keep only the memory.
To push through crowds
Among a billion things
That can be bought and broken and forgotten
Is beyond my strength.
Hard pavements drive me inwards
And the stink of diesel,
Oily dust in the gutters and in the throat,
The fluttering papers of unwanted packaging,
And everywhere the misery
Of those who want and cannot have.
I walk now in my head
Among long grass stalks
And blackbirds singing
With a sweet breeze behind me
And a dog laughing at the sun.