"And many a one now doth surpass/ My wave-worn beauty with his wind of flowers,/Yet am I a poet". Ezra Pound, from "And Thus in Ninevah".
Saturday, 19 December 2015
Temple
The nave is fields of flowers,
the aisles are snow and forest trees,
the transept is rippling wind on grass,
the altar rivers, tides and seas,
the stairwells are mighty mountains
leading to the attic sky
and music effortlessly resounds
from wave, bird, storm and soft wind's sigh.
The floating dome is decorated
with endlessly changing hue
of billowing white, scudding grey,
or deep ethereal blue,
and fleetingly in east and west
comes a stained-glass blaze of light,
after which the dome transforms
into star-studded velvet night.
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