My son, my executioner - Donald Hall

My son, my executioner,
I take you in my arms,
Quiet and small and just astir,
And whom my body warms.

Sweet death, small son, our instrument
Of immortality,
Your cries and hungers document
Our bodily decay.

We twenty-five and twenty-two,
Who seemed to live forever,
Observe enduring life in you
And start to die together.

From Brother Songs: A Male Anthology of Poetry. Ed: Jim Perlman.

Thin Places - Llansor Mill, South Wales

Another thin place - Llansor Mill, near Caerleon in South Wales. My partner and I attended an Enneagram workshop there two weekends ago, which was eye-opening on its own, quite apart from the stunning location.

It's only a ten-minute drive from the M4, so easy to get to, and nestles in the most beautiful landscape - not wild, but very hilly and green and has a lovely feeling of privacy.

We stayed in the old mill house which Stephen and Mary Ashton have converted into a very comfortable meeting room-cum-holiday home. There's more accommodation in another old stone house, plus space for camping down nearer the Sor brook that gives the place its name. 

There's something very healing simply about being in nature, but here they also run a programme of events to nurture body, mind and spirit, or simply let you come and stay and soak up the tranquil atmosphere. The sun came out for us too, so we saw it at its best.

The website can be found here.