Somewhere, surely, there's another Mount Olympus
where tomorrow's Gods convene, new Gods from old,
no greater, no less human than the ones who went before,
Gods we have fashioned faithfully - and all from ancient moulds.
And surely there's a labyrinth, complete with Minotaur,
that we, in new-found innocence will certainly explore.
And somewhere, I'm assuming, there's a Gog and Magog Land,
a promise that some day an improved world will rise
a world restored to glory, and several times life size.
And surely there's a promise hidden somewhere in the dark
that Noah and all his people when this world has been undone
will find their mountain dry again, A Gaia in the sun.
The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea. Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone. Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves...
A Birthday in April ~ Wordsworth Prompt from The Imaginary Garden with Real Toads (The first of three posts which will celebrate the l...
It all depends, you see, how you go about it. And that I cannot tell you, for that will be dictated by you and by you knowing your friends...
extract from the poem Koi by John Burnside All afternoon we've wandered from the pool to alpine beds and roses ...
This post has in a sense been handed to me by two or three responses to my post On not getting it. In the course of discussing how a reade...