I really hope the family and friends of the late Ken Jones, meditation teacher and poet, don't mind my posting this, as a tribute to a fine teacher I wish I had known. I belong to a walking group and a meditation group, to both of which I recommend this sequence.
Octogenarian Ramble
Rambling through old age - she looks behind to see if I'm still there
As
her flickering compass tacks and veers, I lag behind with the map to
shout changes of direction. In the interludes of easy going, my poles
clicking on the tarmac, we once again strike out together.
Facing obstacles once taken in our stride, like this crumbling drystone wall.
Dignity dictates I decline her proffered hand this life in the past tense
Sometimes, however, I do accept a little push-up over a sheep fence.
Barbed wire yoga the lift of my boot just one inch short
At
a broad, fast flowing stream she honours me - by not looking back. Left
alone to enjoy both fear and audacity. Launched creakingly in mid-air,
that second of freedom beyond age and youth. And Splash!
Old age is also about falling over.
Black and blue the colour scheme of this old body
Happily,
the elegance learnt in youth remains. I can still fall gracefully,
softly and unnoticed. Moreover, I can still provide some entertainment.
His roly-poly fall down a gentle slope her helpless smile
And so mortality eternally renews our weekly rambles through crag and forest, pasture and bog.
Getting lost together blithely we make our waytowards the final destination
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