Tuesday, 20 March 2012


i go into the woodle's bedroom to wish her good morning
and shake her out of her golden slumbers
'what's the time?'
these are the first words she utters as i draw back the curtains
but today this perfectly normal and logical question startles me
i look out on a beautiful sunny spring morning
across the road a magnolia tree is sporting new buds
which will soon blossom into magnificent pink flowers
the pair of great tits nesting in a hollow of our rowan tree
fly to and forth to provide for their brood
the sky is a wonderful clear blue
but all that is on the woodle's mind is time
that anthropogenic measure of freedom and slavery
already my little 8-year-old
is sufficiently aware of its mechanical tyranny
that it is the first waking thought that crosses her mind
meanwhile she is already becoming blinded to the natural cycles
which have governed the lives of humanity and other species
over countless millennia
for her society teaches her to value
the measurable over the non-measurable
to count and to assign numerical value
to things that are priceless, nebulous and beyond words

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