Michael Pattwell


I don’t know if flowers have feelings.

 Perhaps a rose at dawn,

   unfolding its florescence


and basking in the warmth

 of the morning sun,

   has achieved perfect enlightenment.


Or the smooth pebble

 washed and shaped and honed for eons

   by constant liquid movement,


rolling among its fellows before the waves

 lapping the shore

   has achieved a perfect peaceful state.


Who’s to know?


I have learned

 that the seeking of happiness

   is an illusion.


It cannot be achieved

 because once realised

   the seeking starts again


and the rolling mind,

 monkey-jumping from tree to tree,

   is never still.


I have decided

 to alter my objectives

   and turn my back


on the will-o-the-wisp

 called happiness.

   My life, instead, is moving


towards an acceptance of the now

 - the reality of cause and effect –

   the only path to Tranquillity.


I seek contentment.




The way was mapped out.

It was all very easy,

Keeping to the prompts.


Like a sat. nav. map,

There was no way to get lost,

Following the voice.


The ten basic rules

Were the Moses Commandments,

With a few tacked on


That came out of Rome.

Six Commandments of the Church.

Just in case we'd stray.


Stay upon the tracks.

The express train Heaven bound.

The Salvation line.


Get inside the gate

And bask for eternity

In angelic song.


I got to wonder

What could possibly go wrong?

The question was asked


That got me thinking

- Always a dangerous thing

For the active mind,


Did God create man

Or for whatever reason,

Did man create God.


25th October, 2016



Michael Pattwell