Just Watch Children Playing

A crooked path is what I prefer.
The indirect approach.

How can I know if I’m alive?
Is being alive the same as not being dead?

Happiness is not my aim;
Only the absence of unhappiness.
Complete concentration on one point.

Magical “No”-my dark friend!
Writing a poem is a discipline of waiting,
Being there,where it comes from.

The happiness that was there
Before reasons for happiness existed;
The infinite comedy,
The kindness of life.

I don’t need to go to India or China.
I can sit in my room and watch a blackbird
Wandering round the lawn.

No need for opinions.
No need to feel important or special.
No need.

All this time I have only been
What other people tell me.
All I have known is others’ words.

And so I go on living as others want me to live.
Repeating myself,over and over.
Pretending that everything is something else.

There is nothing wrong with me,
Nothing that needs to be improved,
Nothing wrong with the voices in my head.

Life…no,it’s not a mistake.
It’s the tree outside my window.
It’s the blackbird perching on top.