Basketball at Downing

In May, I met up with friends old and new, one who'd come all the way from Taiwan.

We played some basketball and I was inspired to write this poem.

Under the eye of our Lady
And English Martyrs Catholic Church

You know what it means to fly free

And gazing up not at her spire

But reaching for some nearer goal

We circle, bustle and ascend

From a manger to a basket,

From a basket ever upwards,

Bounce, bounce, step, the shouts go up

And back we go to try again.

To try again

Is all we really do,

Is all we need to do

To see another chance slip by

And yet recall the still crisp sound

Of the ball that flies through the hoop

Without blessing of rim or board

In sweet perfection never found

Because in truth there is no end,

No basket of holy idols,

No church to sanction how we play,

But just ourselves to seek within

And let the great souls light our way.

–okei (15/05/2011)