Wednesday, 22 May 2013

All Paths Lead To The Sea

Now spring has come, emerging into the conscious mind, easing the longing for winter's grip to end. It seems the mind can only hold so much and then it desires to move, a change of shape, colour and sound. If time presses on inexorably linear and relentless, then this desire for transformation burning inside is perhaps more circular; a softer song, but no less insistent for that. The river cannot be contained, it has to flow, meander and cut into its banks, so reshaping the landscape by its own dynamic force. Now I cannot go back and retrace my steps, to make amends, unpick the ignorance and insensitivities. I did not know the words to the song of spring, just held fragments of fragile melody. Perhaps these tracks will show the way back to the sea that holds the source of dreams dissolved within dreams

Light coming now from within
As twining vines grasp on tight
Holding the structure together
A radiant spread of warmth
Entering these old bones.

All around primroses scatter colour
pale yellows amid soft greens
and winter washed leaves.
Wind in the treetops
Its presence known only by effect. 

Somewhere far below
an insect picks its way
through a forest of moss.

Pushing open the window,
fog so dense
gliding around the stems of black trees.

An infinite series of folds
In the unmade bed.
Over there,
Mountains stretch
Distance beyond distance.

Your question
Was open and honest enough –
“Which way from here?”
Amid the mountains, valleys,
Riverbeds, forests and glades;
The tall grasses, wayside flowers,
Rushing winds and birdsong –
Which way indeed?

The dragon
Stalks across the firmament
Spliting sky and earth,
The circle and the square,
Bridging the divide
In this temporal world
As blossoms fall
and young maple leaves emerge.

Please comment. If you found this, or any other post of interest, it is always a pleasure to hear from you. Thanks, Robert Ketchell

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