I never feel more at peace than when I can see the view from a small island.

The taste of salt hanging in the air offers a different perspective

to the humdrum, rush, sprint for the finish with life partly intact

that blows with the frenzy and ferocity of the winds in October

‘Eighty Seven

I dip my grateful feet in the sea and feel a different rush take hold

as my heart beats slowly now and

plunges full throttle into a mode that the few would deny the many.

The grin of slimy corporate greed that suggests we should always be…contactable,

To be part of the production machine,

that the reason we are here at all is to be instantly on hand

to give an opinion, to have a sound bite ready, willing and able to consume

more, to devour ourselves and forget the soul we were born with

which allowed us

to look up at near cloudless sky and make sense of it all.

To the ambitious and easily impressed, those that wallow in the chance to

speak a million sentences and not understand a single word

that gets caught hanging in the back of the throat

as the multiplex of wires hang round our neck.

I always enjoy the view from a small island

especially when the wire loosens, giving me chance to…

breathe.

 

Ian D. Hall    2014