I ascend a metal pole and then a young ash tree
and find myself amongst clouds.
On a misty mountainside I climb to a plateau
where a young woman dances in the mist.
Waving ribbons I move with her
and together we dance to a sunny garden
in a courtyard, where a king and queen sit.
They point me through a door.
Reluctantly I come through the door into her presence.
She is veiled, she is still.
I do not know her age
I cannot see her face
I know nothing about her.
She does not engage, she does not flirt.
She ignores all my little tricks.
To all my questions she says:
‘I cannot tell you that
and anyway, it does not matter.’
Finally I give up trying.
Instead I express my gratitude for her presence
and ask for any guidance she may offer me.
‘I sit here.
I find joy in my breathing
joy in my body
and joy in my freshness.
You can do the same
especially your freshness.’
I return home and consider.
To men, women are an unusual place.
I came back, now I am reporting.