Each morning I wake in the East

like the Sun;

a human being in the Eastern Bedroom

in a house on a hill of till up North,

afraid to die,

or loose my mind,

have memory dissolve

like the computer HAL in 2001, A Space Odyssey

- until the fear eases off after an hour or a half,

and I persuade myself that it's due time to let go,

as the coffee black,

- having been beautifully barefooty balanced

up the semi spiral staircase -

has diminished my worldly cares sip by sip

and sent me on a hunt for this poem for making sense

of letting go

of all these fears & worries, big & small,

and all practicalities and logistical purgatories

that come with my polarity predicament

of having most of myself down South

where I'm not, most of the time,

and most of the time here up North,

where most of me is not,

but where my live life, daily & ongoing,

with Anna and the animals, takes place

South is but a lonely port of the Past

which defines me

in a shadowy, misty sense;

the ghost ships of my sub- & unconscious moored;

Paraphernalia from Chance Eras (thanks Roger Connah)

floating on the swell between dark hulls;

the undercurrent of Time

continually transforming the significance of life,

originally allotted its alleged importance

by circumstances that are no more,

just like ancient conflicts & wars

now appear incomprehensible, unimportant, petty;

perhaps a couple of lines in a history book

I have antennae down South

that were built for analogue reception,

and the computer there is getting old

The library, of course, is a different matter!

I keep bringing stacks of books with me

as I swing south or north

between the poles of the contemporary,

like the EU Parliament shuttling

between Brussels & Strasbourg,

but I'm nonetheless approaching the time

when its due time to let go of everything's core;

myself,

realizing that banal truth

that I can't take anything with me

when I go with a capital G!

It's wise to approach that gate

with an open mind,

freed of most of what has defined me,

by Chance or Necessity,

and just be, as the moment draws closer

Four years from 80

I'm still a hell of a biker, skier and scree climber,

while thinking & writing keeps my head alert,

but that can't last,

and even if it does, the gate has to be passed;

the transformation back into the elements

has to be made

Life has been great

I've said yes more often than I've said no

Each morn,

after that hour or half of existential anxiety,
I trot over to the Western Bedroom

for a couple of hours of reading, writing

and meditation; simply being

Anna's signs of life rises through the house

from downstairs,

the cats Silver & Cesi running up the stairs

to be around me as I start identifying

with the new day

with a cocky attitude within,

but hopefully with less care and petty worries,

happy about those Alfuzosin pills

that have me pee really good!