|GWR 6412 heading for Totnes in July sunshine in 2016|
The BBC quotes the BBC's lachrymose-tolerant Fergal Keane as describing his death as a "terrible loss" and calling him "a master whose words reached me at the darkest moments of life".
Well, this is probably the recent poem he's best known for (well, by me anyhow), and I'm finding it rather uplifting at the moment too. So I thought I'd share it with you.
So batten down the emotional hatches and don your rational Sou'westers, and look out for that sunshine (if you can):
Everything is Going to be All Right
How should I not be glad to contemplate
the clouds clearing beyond the dormer window
and a high tide reflected on the ceiling?
There will be dying, there will be dying,
but there is no need to go into that.
The poems flow from the hand unbidden
and the hidden source is the watchful heart.
The sun rises in spite of everything
and the far cities are beautiful and bright.
I lie here in a riot of sunlight
watching the day break and the clouds flying.
Everything is going to be all right.