Saturday, 6 April 2019

So Different from Neglect

I wonder when it settles on a place,
That air of ‘nothing matters much’
One finds about a house and in its grounds,
So different from neglect, neglect without disgrace. 

I wonder if it creeps up gradually
Or if one wakes and finds it there,
That air of ‘nothing matters much’
That fills the space
With gentle, silent sounds.

To whom does it belong?
Does it just emanate
From happy souls who live in sunlit peace?
And can they find the energy to concentrate?

Or does it work the other way about?
And bathe with calming balm until no trace
Of tension or anxiety can touch
The minds of those who dwell within the bounds

Of ‘nothing matters much’.

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