Mistress Jill to Master Jack
I woke on time as I always do
Having mastered perfect sleep
At rest in the image of a zen guru
I balance light and deep
Crept out of the house without a noise
Drove with perfect grace
Considered the landscape with Woolsely poise
Parked my car in it's place
Took the road at perfect pace
The left path called to me
So I cammo rolled under barb wired fence
Indiana Jill , that's me
Feeling extra full of zip
Thought I'd run backwards today
Mixed it up with a Gaelic skip
And a cartwheel , keeps boredom at bay
Feeling particularly witty this morn
I cracked a few jokes out loud
To the manner I be born
Birds like a theatre crowd
Had time for a little guitar on air
Composed a six course meal
Jogged on the spot thought "It's time to go there
Mediate on what is real"
There in the tree the bird is black
And am I here at all
I went into a trance and back
While rehearsing my eagle call
As I sauntered back with depth of glee
Reviewing my clever act
I thought of a man who teaches me
His name is Master Jack
Master Jack - who is this quack?
I say: give him the slip!
He sounds just like a third rate hack.
Go captain your own ship.
What ? Master Jack
He is a quack?
My ship has run aground?
Is not to learn and listen wisdom,
And thus my passage sound
Listen, maybe - with discretion:
One in ten's a worthy lesson.
Problem is Jack likes to talk -
Even when wisdom bids him balk.
Jack has snake oil in his hair
If he should think of Jill
That she learns only when he's right
False talk is worthy still
Jack's eyes light up, then he opines:
'What's wisdom when there's wit?
The truth can go be buggered I'm
The king of talking shit.'
Written in Conversation with a Friend