It’s only these last couple of years that I’ve begun to appreciate Poetry and that has been mainly through my time with, The London Buddhist Centre in East London, where there’s a high regard and encouragement for the Arts as an important factor in human wellbeing.

I love the ability of good Poetry to connect with my emotions and often to say so much with so few words and of course poetry and imagery make good companions.

From time to time I’ll post Poems that have touched me for a variety of reasons.

Unwittingly by John Burnside.

This poem and opening lines, has given me the title of my book with a slight variation on the words, I’ve omitted ‘I’ve visited.’ Also the sections in bold are an insight into my own personality and the impact of childhood experiences.

I've visited the place
where thought begins:
pear trees suspended in sunlight, narrow shops,
alleys to nothing
but nettles
and broken wars;
and though it might look different
to you:

a seaside town, with steep roofs
the colour of oysters,
the corner of some junkyard with its glint
of coming rain,

though someone else again would recognize
the warm barn, the smell of milk,
the wintered cattle
shifting in the dark,

it's always the same lit space,
the one good measure:
Sometimes you'll wake in a chair
as the light is fading,

or stop on the way to work
as a current of starlings
turns on itself
and settles above the green,

and because what we learn in the dark
remains all our lives,
a noise like the sea, displacing the day's
pale knowledge,

you'll come to yourself
in a glimmer of rainfall or frost,
the burnt smell of autumn,
a meeting of parallel lines,

and know you were someone else
for the longest time,
pretending you knew where you were, like a diffident tourist,
lost on the one main square, and afraid to enquire.