
London is sweet
In June’s ownership.
Roses billow
From front gardens
In to quite, shady streets.
There is a cool breeze
Beneath the plane trees,
And reality flexes
With a deep breath
And a mind expanding.
I read in the paper
That rare orchids had materialised
On a green roof
Among towering edifices –
An astronomical improbable chance!
Someone was quoted saying it was miraculous.
It made me wonder
What other miracles
Are yet in store,
Idling just off stage,
Unseen in the formless realm,
Unexpressed possibility
Awaiting only
A nod of our head
And an invitation to be.