Jogging, today, I overshot
the Victoria Park Island
The sight of the Boat House
Restaurant arrested me. After
a quick U-turn I was back on track
Was it the bald trees that muddled me?
Was I hypnotized by the
tick-tock of my feet, or the
pendulum of my breath, or the
chime of my heart?
I was running in that place where the
need to let go of things that
need me to let go of them held sway.
I made my way over the bridge and
wound round the park. Now
back in myself, I saw a goose wink at me:
slipping through a park is not only
prayer, it is also life and breath.