Gregorian Canto

Halfway through life's journey I found myself
In a dark place, a wood. I'd lost my way.
I looked around, not for a signpost, not

For help, but to be sure I'd no way back.
The gloom made rumours of its plainest shapes
and of the slightest breath of secrecy.

It seemed appropriate to close my eyes,
Remembering the route which I had taken
But not committing it to memory,

And in this state of welcome blindness to
Assess all future possibilities,
The fragile outcomes of contingency.

I leaned against a tree as if I were
A child again and shyly held myself
Aloof from kids my mother wanted me

To play with, mutely pressing back against
...