The Sunlight on the Garden

The Sunlight on the Garden

The sunlight on the garden
Hardens and grows cold,
We cannot cage the minute
Within its nets of gold,
When all is told
We cannot beg for pardon.

Our freedom as free lances
Advances towards its end;
The earth compels, upon it
Sonnets and birds descend;
And soon, my friend,
We shall have no time for dances.

The sky was good for flying
Defying the church bells
And every evil iron
Siren and what it tells:
The earth compels,
We are dying, Egypt, dying

And not expecting pardon,
Hardened in heart anew,
But glad to have sat under
Thunder and rain with you,
And grateful too
For sunlight on the garden.

Louis MacNeice

This week started with looking forward to birthday and wedding celebrations and ends with saying goodbye to a dear friend of R's. Walking about the Lake District last week we laughed at tales you, T and R cycling a long way there and back, being forced to share a tent and going your own way home! We weren't expecting to be hearing the same story at your funeral just a few days later. I am thankful to have met you, goodbye Iain.