I wrote this poem late one August afternoon, sitting in the sunshine beside my fishpond. I thought about living in the moment – but which moment in which world? Sometimes, if we wish to be in the moment, we have to look beneath our surface feelings into a place that may look dark; but may, too, be a home of beauty.
The koi, red, black, white, metallic gold, slip through the water,
Their paths traced by slow ripples that roll across the pond
To make a panelled lattice of silver, through which the fish
Slide, now visible, now unseen,
Hide, by light, by movement.
A vine’s reflection, leaves hard-edged against
The black and silver water, seems more solid than the plant itself
As it strives sunwards from the same root in the bank.
The moment of reality shimmers.
Red, black, white, metallic gold, appear – and vanish.