With our third term, ‘sobriety’, we start to rise…
By accepting the control we attempted to impose on the
world in our ‘planning’ and singularly failed to exert upon ourself in ‘gluttony’.
Roads of excess can lead to places of wisdom insists the Blake-Man,
and in our countless excesses may we hope that this is so…
Sobriety is not abstinence but it does wield discrimination,
when applied not to others, in judgement,
but to ourself, in understanding.
Our search for food left little time to shop,
and a small sandwich instead of the better value large
proved an elegant sufficiency.
Meeting at the same Cafe as our morning break
proved only that lightning does not strike a place twice.
Any lingering excess from the previous night would soon
be burned off by the looming coastal walk:
away, blown, cobwebs, the terms,
introduced by a little mud sliding…
From here on in things necessarily become
incredibly precise though, heaven knows,
we had no idea. Does the hand that guides, also design?
Our forty minute cliff-top sojourn
somehow became one-hour-and-a-half.
Do not ask for these are mysteries.
We stopped to talk for no more than fifteen minutes en route…
In a gale.
It could not have been longer.
Our ‘early tea’ became just a coffee,
and an early night beckoned, then,
we were accosted…