Back in Buxted
These are the lanes I ran around, for miles and miles and miles and miles.
The hill that I ran repeats up, again and again and again into a setting sun
The rugby field I lapped
It never happened.
Now I lap the rugby field – once more
Now I run down the hill I ran up
I drove through the lanes
Now; and they are all new.
Twisting and turning back on themselves, hedgerows bursting with flowers wild, and little toads – so small – the size of a thumbnail
Will they make it across the road this year?
I’m back in Buxted
The flow of life ever moving, now and now and now.
I am here now and then.
It is all just pictures moving, films overlaid by more films, some of the scenes the same
People coming and going
The flow of life.
Death. I hear the news that she has gone
I knew her then thirty three years ago
Not here now
But the life eternal flows, on and on – and the people scurry and worry
The same worries now as then and then and then
When the centre is found within, then the pain of the cycle stops and the river of life and death and love flows with the same flow
And on we go
‘There was a British Athlete who ran barefoot’ a voice spoke as I made my way through the wooded area to the field… His dog smiled at me, I stopped running ‘His name was Bruce Tulloh’
‘I knew Bruce’ I said
I raced with him in the late 80’s by then he was a top veteran athlete having been one of Britains best 5,000 and 10,000 metre runners in his prime. He won races barefoot ‘The lightest shoe’ he described barefoot running.
When I was a top woman athlete, and he then in his 50’s a top veteran – we were much of a muchness.
He’s gone now. But his spirit lives on – this man with his dog and I talked about him in a field in Buxted
When someone has left their body we must look to where they are
Not where they’re not.
‘Have fun darling’ said my mother, she’s not here now, she hasn’t been for forty five years
But I look to the fun where she is
Life is eternal
On and on