Poem of the Month, March 2016: Becoming Ascetic

BECOMING ASCETIC

Creative energy is within us and all around us, whether we are writing a masterpiece or folding the laundry. ‘Courage to Change’

Four-twenty. I must be awake and up for a very good reason.
Knowing I will not use sugar today gives me joy and peace of mind.
The moon is in Anabel’s natal sign. Perhaps I’ll see her today.
That would be extremely agreeable. We don’t meet often enough.

Venus is in a harmonious aspect with Jupiter right now.
This could prove to be an opportunity for positivity
at the level of good relationships. She is a very close friend.
Anabel always gives me a piece of chocolate with my cup of tea
but today I will give it back to her with my poem Sugar Notes
explaining the drastic action I took with regard to that substance.

I guess she will want to know something about the Ostend convention,
how I got on with Roger, what made me decide to give up sugar.
I’ll have to explain about the buffet and my long talk with Ingrid
after having piled my plate with quantities of delicious dessert.
I’ll have to admit I was impressed by Ingrid – her looks, her manner,
her absolute honesty, peace of mind and yogic self-assurance.
I don’t care tuppence if Anabel is jealous. It’s most unlikely.
More paper for her vast collection of Marcus Cumberlege’s works!

Thirteen months ago I gave up coffee. I’m becoming ascetic.
But I don’t see myself ever wanting to stop seeing Anabel.
She is too much of a jolly good thing to abandon just like that.
It’s a long hard road. Spain will be the acid test of my convictions.
Can I put Bruges and all its fascination behind me and focus
completely on Maria for two weeks – my eternal valentine?

I’m also determined to spend some time getting to grips with my soul.
The last chapter of Dialogue with Divinity must be written.
A whole inner world is waiting to be explored, the world of myself –
not forgetting my necessary conversations with Amida.
Maria, I know, will want to experiment with Spanish cookies.
God bless her. Meanwhile I’ll stare in front of me, sipping unsugared tea,
“remembering a cool breeze in the olive groves”, as Lorca put it.

Ash Wednesday, 10 February 16.