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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4650 Registered: 11-1998 |
Poem of the Week Insubstantial Air Janet Kenny It was no accident we wandered here, away from suburbs and from traffic din, we needed to be somewhere free to clear the dust and doldrums that remained within. The sweet vivacity of birds in heath land high above the sea as sky was wide, while quails in coveys bumbled round our feet, and sunlit straight escarpments on each side proclaimed our isolation from the great metropolis that seemed so out of place, like some Atlantis that might disappear without a noise, leaving not a trace. Incredible the silence and the vast expanse of air, like Prospero’s desmesne, all insubstantial moving light that clasped each image and refracted it again. And we felt no surprise when downward came transparent parachutes in graceful fall from out the belly of an ancient plane, illuminated beings held in thrall by Prospero’s enchantment, captive ghosts that drifted slowly down till hid from view and the surrounding dreamscape of the coast forgot the aeroplane and floating crew. Below the cliffs the water came and went in lacey patterns overlapping those that came before, incessantly intent on black and white kaleidoscopic shows. Our need for earth’s connection is so strong we sicken if deprived of wilderness, and if we stew in cities for too long we dwindle to adapt to our address. Wizened homunculi we all forget our ancestors emerged from out the wet; and fire and ice will each suffice, says Frost. We gained our cities but the rest is lost. |
