One mindful little morning
In the tranquility of the kitchen, I’m eating toast
and sipping tea, enjoying the feast of greenness,
beyond the back door. The ferny sandstone rockery,
and the spikey leaves of the palm tree,
reminiscent of an enchanted, far-away island. The black pole
of the bird feeding station, like the lamppost in the forest
beyond the wardrobe portal. The branch of the wild bush,
spiralling splendidly along the glass of the window — its magical
leaves, like those of Jack’s beanstalk. My mindful musings
transport me and my imagination wanders,
back to the sanctuary of childhood memories. Waves
of restful stillness, wash over me — and I stay in one place
willingly. Then in a flash of blueness — a Blue tit comes to rest
on the buddleia branch. Head on one side, eyeing the bits of straw
caught in the spider’s web on the kitchen side of the glass. Its
beak like thin, sharp needles — pecking, pecking, pecking,
with unexpected yet ineffectual force. The branch sways,
and it tries again, without succeeding, or learning.
Again, and again, then disappears — as suddenly as it appeared.
And I sit here reflecting on the disappointment for my unexpected
little visitor, who was so amusing and charming — and about the
invisible border, between my quiet world inside the glass,
and the wild one beyond it.
This poem is a translation of my Welsh poem ‘Un bore bach ystyriol’, a Welsh poem which was published in the anthology for ‘Gŵyl y Ferch 2020'.
