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Monday 7 February 2011

The Conscious Hills

The meme supplied by Writers Island was the one word Beguile

The dust of generations fills these hills.
It's blown by winds, but moves in ways that fill
the mind with awe - or would, were we aware
of how it shapes so many features here,
of how it isn't simply dust, how nothing
in this world is quite as simple as itself.
There's something there that's active on behalf
of us and what the world prescribes. It's just
as much alive as strontium. The dust
knows nothing of a half life, but survives
its scatterings and burials to form
itself again. It formed us once, as we
formed it, and it will form our heirs - but make
them unlike us. It draws and redraws blue-
prints, score on score, as do all things
of flesh - and those of granite, too. They do
it in the way they act, respond to this,
our world. How else did shape and movement come
about? How else did we reach consciousness?
Are we more conscious than the dust? Perhaps.
The difference is in the measure, not
the kind. We are beguiled to think there is
no consciousness. Without it is no chance
to be deceived - not even by ourselves.


Shadow said...

wonderfully written, shaping, changing, becoming, lovely flow...

Louise said...

You had me from the opening line Dave. Wonderful poem!

Jim Murdoch said...

This is positively Shakespearean in its opening (I’m thinking Prospero’s “Our revels now are ended” speech) but I suspect even Shakespeare might have struggled to fit ‘strontium’ into a poem and make it work but apart from that well done.

Karen said...

The wonderful tone of this fits the matter perfectly. I agree with Jim - it is Shakespearean (and I don't say THAT lightly)!

Unknown said...

It's more than dust - it's more than words - beautiful

Dave King said...

much thanks for that response.

120 Socks
That's very reassuring. Thanks.

I take your Shakespeare reference, but I can't see anything wrong with strontium. Maybe the rest of the poem doesn't work well with it! Thanks.

Well, I don't mind being referred to in the same breath as Shakespeare. As for not saying it lightly, Jim was talking about Prospero. That's dark! Lovely comment. Thanks.

Dust to is beautiful, but I'm real glad you thought it more than words!

Kass said...

Yikes, I LOVE THIS peom!

in this world is quite as simple as itself...

...and that line.

Is thought aware of itself?

Is the universe made solely of consciousness?

Tommaso Gervasutti said...

Dear Dave, there is a strong echo of Shakespeare here and also of Walcott, a powerful solemnity in your voice until the last lines in their gripping, suspending question, I agree in particular with your "perhaps". It's great, sometimes, not offering an answer.

Linda Bob Grifins Korbetis Hall said...

perfect rhymes,

stunning nature imagery, thanks for sharing.


Windsmoke. said...

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust that's how we all end up eventually. Fantastic imagery, you've out done yourself once again :-).

flaubert said...

David, this is so full of imagery.
I simply love the ending.


Strummed words said...

Makes me think of "dust to dust," and our world's eternal renewal.

Dave King said...

That's a very generous response, Kass. Thank you for it. They are frighteningly big questions, but every now and again I feel I have to have a go, however inadequate.

Muh appreciate those remarks. I think you are absolutely correct in suggesting that we do not always have to offer a solution. Poetry, I believe, is the domain of the ambiguous.

And sincere thanks for the comment.

The big question being... do we end up? I take your point, though. All such comments are grist to the old mill.

Hi, welcome to the blog, and many, many thanks for the comments. Good to have your observations.

Strummed words
Indeed, it's where I came in. It's where we all go out!

Anonymous said...

simply sublime.

Dave King said...

Hi, good to have you visiting. Thanks for doing so.

Anonymous said...

in this world is quite as simple as itself."

Yes. Perfect.