Timber and Brick

The maze of concrete and glass is uninviting, hostile, foreboding, but finding myself ensconced in the timber, brick and raucous conversation of the public house is an altogether different encounter with the world. Sitting at the edge of conversation, adrift, aloft, words spilling out, will more than suffice. It’s a fiction to feign this is a labour. There is little laborious about stumbling upon the next word, the turn, the notion and the song. It is a delight. An undeserved delight that must be tied to vision and vocation to have any place in the seeming chaos. This peace must be earned, deserved, by prayer, supplication and purpose. Without it, God forbid, it is simply more noise.