LOTUS EATERS
I grew so quiet as I walked along,
My mind so much a mirror to the wood,
So passively open to the colour and song
And the whole company of solitude
That past time fell from me, and time to come
No longer drew me with its magnet power:
My whole self lazily to a bee’s low hum
Listened, and watched him fumble at a flower.
The present held me. I was just aware
Of the ripple and stir of muscles where my hand
Lay slack against my side. I sucked live air,
And drew sweet moisture from the clayey sand.
Now do I know how horses live, and cows,
Minute to minute of the shining day,
Solemn with gaze contented as they browse
Finding their lotus in the fields of May.