Tuesday, February 27, 2018

The influence of landscape

What phrases sing to me today?
What calls to me when I hear "Trust the Dark"
or contemplate the loneliness of the moon?
What is it that I covet,
or wish that I could love?
What stirs the heart and haunts the dreams
and calls me to reach out beyond myself,
out to the woods and stars,
the quiet places noone goes,
instead of city streets and urban halls?
Is this a relic of the only child,
who spent her youth in books and trees,
in haylofts and in streams?
Who would I be if I had grown
in marble gilded castles,
in penthouses, or slums?
who would I be if I'd been raised
in desert heat, or tropical paradise?
How are we formed by what we know,
the landscapes that surround us --
and how can we assume,
having been so influenced,
that those surroundings are inanimate,
untouched by expectations, hungers of their own,
which echo down our years like the siren call
of a pale and solitary moon?

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