He thought once that he might change the world,
But he grew tired quickly at the extent of the task.
Then he thought he might change his country
But too many people thought he was mad.
Why not begin small, he thought,
With his local neighbourhood,
But they accused him of being a busy-body.
He began to despair, wondering what he could do –
Until one day it dawned on him
To keep his own garden weeded and welcoming,
To keep his own house a home with an open door
And invite change into the very hearth
To warm itself by the flames of his soul.
The photograph I enclose with this post is one I took on Donabate strand and is a metaphor for direction in life to my mind!