A Walk in the Park

I woke up late today, 
And saw a ray of light peeking under my curtain. 
But I am slow to respond to it. 
I lay yawning and stretching forever. 
When at last I dragged myself to the window, 
The sun is frowning! 
Ugly sulking clouds loom all around. 
I am still hopeful of seeing his beautiful smile.

At last he does not disappoint! 
All the brooding clouds are driven away, 
And the sun is shining happily again.

“Quick! Get out before he goes into hiding”

So saying I emerge for to stroll.

But the air is still cold (by my reckoning).

I walk with my hands in my pocket,

Heading straight ahead for the park yonder.

Read: Village Boy Impressions - When the Sun Shines in Bergen

The park is bare and brown.

And the trees are leafless like dead wood.

Ulriken and Løvstakken lie like sleeping giants,

Facing each other in eternal silence.

I take the path cutting through the park.

An old man is coming down from the other end with his dog

At the intersection we each pause for the other

I go first.

On a bench nearby two lovers

 are in passionate embrace

One on the laps of the other

And each holding the other in loving grip

They do not look up though I trip on the path near them.

In the distance, I see paragliders over Ulriken

The view would be better from there, I muttered.

I see a path created by lazy feet through the grass

And this I took not wanting to go all the way round.

Read: Village Boy Impressions - Why God Does Not Have A PhD

I am walking by the lake now.

The water is still except for concentric circles

Made by a pack of geese swimming in the water

A little boy and his mother are feeding the birds

I watch them for a minute and begin to climb up the path.

Some birds are chirping in the leafless trees

I cannot see them though I stand and look around

Now they’re quite as if shy of me.

As I continue they resume their pleasant talk

I still glance around hoping to see them

And at last I spot two little ones

Hoping across little bare branches

And chirping as if in conversation

I cannot help but smile at their little talk

Wishing I could understand bird talk

Then I might say something to them in birdish.

Read: Village Boy Impressions - Lines Written on A Rainy Day in Bergen

But now I must hurry to my room

For the smiling sun is beginning to sulk

Gloomy clouds threaten to cover his handsome face.

As I climb up, I cannot help

Grumbling at the clouds

Who are such an unceasing menace to the sun

No sooner does he emerge from his chamber

To delight the city,

Than horrible looking envious clouds overtake him

Bleeding rain nonstop.

Written on 27^thMarch, 2015 at Fantoft, Bergen