From The Train
by David Sutton
From the train at dawn, on ploughland, frost
Blue-white in the shadow of a wood.
Oh, you again, of all moods soonest lost
And most elusive and least understood.
What should I call you? Vision? Empathy?
Elation’s tunnel? Worm-hole of rejoicing?
Some bliss of childhood, reasonless and free,
The secret microcosms… What a thing
To have no name for, yet to live for, these
Curious contentments under all,
These moments of a planet: weathers, trees –
What dreams, what intimations, fern-seed small,
Are buried in my days, that I must find,
And recognise, and lose, and leave behind?
by David Sutton
From the train at dawn, on ploughland, frost
Blue-white in the shadow of a wood.
Oh, you again, of all moods soonest lost
And most elusive and least understood.
What should I call you? Vision? Empathy?
Elation’s tunnel? Worm-hole of rejoicing?
Some bliss of childhood, reasonless and free,
The secret microcosms… What a thing
To have no name for, yet to live for, these
Curious contentments under all,
These moments of a planet: weathers, trees –
What dreams, what intimations, fern-seed small,
Are buried in my days, that I must find,
And recognise, and lose, and leave behind?
This is a poem that I have loved for many years.
Another farewell for me is goodbye to travelling on trains, which is something I have always enjoyed. But I can no longer cope. If I have the undeserved kindness of being in the earthly paradise, and we do reinstate a railway system and travel by train, then, yes, surely I will be able to take a train journey again. But if not, then my last day trip to London was my last train experience.
Another farewell for me is goodbye to travelling on trains, which is something I have always enjoyed. But I can no longer cope. If I have the undeserved kindness of being in the earthly paradise, and we do reinstate a railway system and travel by train, then, yes, surely I will be able to take a train journey again. But if not, then my last day trip to London was my last train experience.
This poem, one of my favourites for many years, seems to combine both thoughts, trains and paradise - the glimpse of paradise we can still see everywhere. And how it touches our heart.
I could have called this blog "From the Car Park", as the immense walk on Friday, from the hospital disabled car park to Rheumatology (pretty much the first stop en route), followed by a very short shop which involved me walking from the Waitrose carpark to Waitrose and to the Post Office (almost next door), seems to have crippled me.
I feel like the poor little mermaid who, when she got her legs instead of her tail, felt like she was walking on knives. So I guess I could also have called this blog "The Not-so Little Mermaid" (to save Captain B pointing that out).
The hospital wants me to have another blood test, and as I already have a blood test booked at the Clinic on Monday, I am hoping they can do it at the same time. They did, this morning, and while I now have a hideously bruised arm, at least its done.
The train in the photo above is the little train that runs along our seafront in the Summer season. I found it in Col's photo gallery when I put "train" into the Search Engine.
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