Chosen Course Poem by Paul Reed

The crowd went one way

I did not follow them -

Advice, littered on scraps of paper,

Blew past me on the wind;



The world turned on it's steady axis

As builders built and songstresses sang

Whilst summers glowed and faded

And men made wrong judgements;



Wood and stone were carved

Into beautiful things,

Cupboard doors shut with a thud

On objects unloved and neglected;



And still I thought -

Thought and thought and thought,

Without prayer or movement

Without band or union;



For not being one of the crowd

Forbade me to join in

And life, like a gentle stream

Trickled slowly away;



No life is perfectly lived

But can be perfectly wasted

The gravy boats poured

Candles burned and pebbles skimmed;



In Caernarvon we stood in the sun

And spent the last few days

Not knowing, not understanding

Just being, just travelling as one;



Let me back in!

Let me have this life again

To read the books I should have read

To be a child and to be a man;



To sing until midnight

To roar on the tired horse

To love more fondly and intensely

To take at last my chosen course.