Anabel’s one of those people
I was lucky enough to meet
Who is clever enough to be firm
But kind enough to be sweet.

The things that make me happy
are those from which I refrain
or practice, like the nembutsu,
again, again and again.

What are you trying to say?
Whom do you need to impress?
Silence speaks from the heart.
Confession can end in a mess.

She is sitting here beside me
In our usual meeting place,
With two or three other women
Like a star in outer space.

We try to forget our ego’s
And focus upon ‘the other’
With pure and impartial hearts
Which see each man as a brother.

Attachment is unhealthy.
The Buddha insisted ‘Let go!’.
Yet this undying friendship
Causes poetry to flow.

So many things are bad for us,
We wonder what can be good.
Breathing? Sleep? Fresh vegetables?
A walk in Lappersfort Wood?

The love of a married woman
Is rather a lot to ask.
But attempting the impossible
Is part of the poet’s task.

May ’17.