the next day.
Bro. Ramon’s Diary…
Early spring 1926
awakening to the sound of the blackbirds pinking, today was another of those good to be alive days. The powder blue sky and the silence of the new day crisply sheeted about me
attention to detail now, slowly does it
breathing in as a first breath
breathing out as a first breath
aware of the rise and fall
aware of the ups and downs
aware of the rhythm of the universe
unaware of the universe
unaware of location or position
horizontal or vertical
but ready to make a stab at it.
The first assault:
headed by the strongest most fearful of the bunch
related to hamsters
or crows to the rescue
round and round
self-torture on the wheel
racked and ruined
ten thousand behind them
a million behind them
so many beady eyed gulls craving attention.
Aware of the breathing
it must be me
or some other
passing off a decent impression
some of them enter but make no impression
though there are many, the resolve is stronger.
Making a sound now
which cannot be made into a word
but it is like the breath of god
as it strains to forgive the sin against the holy ghost
and will not be stopped
they fall to rise again
the battle is on.
They are held in place by the breath of god
and stalemate ensues
for the day.
What passes for sanity
keeps me upright rising from the bed
seeing what is made
unsure of it's status checking its pulse
weak beyond belief
rootless and adrift
on a tide of barren seas
but wouldn't know what if it was tripped over
there is more to life than this ephemera.
Seeds to be sown and weeding to be done after office…
when I think on my time in the workhouse it seems but a small thing and more a self-inflicted punishment when in truth my spirit was freer then than now and though the physical chains of poverty are removed from my circumstance the tenure of their composition has fitted me well for my life outside the walls…