Thursday 23rd


Not conscious
      that you have been seeking
      you come upon it

the village in the Welsh hills
            dust free
      with no road out
but the one you came in by.

            A bird chimes
      from a green tree
the hour that is no hour
      you know. The river dawdles
to hold a mirror for you
where you may see yourself
      as you are, a traveller
            with the moon’s halo
      above him, whom has arrived
      after long journeying where he
            began, catching this
      one truth by surprise
that there is everything to look forward to.

R. S. THOMAS (from Collected Poems, J. M. Dent)