Just as one thing passes another comes along. Today is our last day in Crete (for this year, I suspect we might come back next) and as I contemplated this, I received an email informing me that two prose poems I have written in the past month will be included in an anthology being assembled by the International Poetry Studies Institute (IPSI). I raise a morning glass of ice cold water, infused with lemon slices to say thanks (great way to start a day, by the way). And as I sipped the water I was thinking back to the week and what has been the highlight, well there is still today and who knows what it will bring, but this portrait of the Black Madonna has been a standout. The chapel isn't easily accessed (its a 6km walk) and when you do get there you have to let yourself in and close the door behind you when you leave, so you know its not the Sistine Chapel. But that says all the more about art, religion and accessibility, with the pomposity stripped away. I am going to miss this house, the gentle hum of the early morning crickets, which turns into a racket of industrial proportions once they get going - and I can set that off by playing my guitar, I can never work out whether they are joining in or protesting; the smell of jasmine on the breeze; the early morning sung prayers from the nearby church; the clucking chickens and daily cock crow; the stillness... and now this has to be one of the great songs and performances of the twenty-first century, you are not alone from the wonderful Mavis Staples - open up this is a raid...
