A twisty-turny maze of monsters and snares
They scare me but I tarry not, bypass such cares.
Walking along by freely flowing waters in a whirl of lightly falling snow
Cold hard ground crunched and moaned beneath my steps
Sheep gaze, stare, aghast and flee
Along the meandering burn, where beech and ash and oak grow in secret knolls
Meditative place, aspect of nature revealed, gentle murmur of water
Memories race and compete in my head, of days in the sun
Picnics with dear friends, bathing in the illuminated waters
The wind tweaks at my clothes, the cold slowly seeps in
As I stare into the frosted pale eye of the distant white-mantled mountains
Winter endures, and whilst my soul is happy I can wander free
The summer will overcome, however, and send the ice-demons scuttling back to their Antarctic broods
I feel the winters waning power as the world turns like some gigantic wheel,
Anticipate the dizzy recklessness of the gathering spring, the profusion of growth,
The dazzling array of colours, the enchanting scents which will fill my brain with their potent spell
How to try to temper this power? To control the frenzy, the blindness when the blood is hot, wild and empowered
Can I channel its energies, concentrate on snow and ice, the bleached, parched terrain?
To come again into wholeness, through experience and comprehension,
Or stand torn between two poles in crazy oscillation,
Head over heels in a blur of sensation.
The young loves and desires of the heart are unfolding, indulging in clownish delirium folding back, letting flow through, transcending illusiory temporariness
The ways of the heart, the ambitions of the soul;
Out of oneself, in another’s control, tempering the currents, precision mechanisms
The power to grow, let go, yet still hold on, release self and realise self
The cycles of growth and decay, life and rebirth, journey of the sun and quarters of the moon
Testing the thickness of the ice, it was thin, yet finely fluted casts shrouded water below,
Frozen animation, nature’s sculpture, patterned surface of mottled grey and white Winter’s failing hand scattered snowflakes hard falling down, down to where I
Explore further where trees line the burn below.
Why fight the divided self, realise images split and multiplied to infinity harmonised.
Tracing sole steps across the concrete town, passing by a park at sunrise
Voluminous clouds gathered in grey waves over the marbled pulp of rainbow
Turning away from thrumming motors, beginning to climb, the prelude following into symphony
As the sky chasing its climax proper, higher and higher arise, ever more astounded by the
Coruscating waves of colour, chasing each other about a mile above my head
Seeing oneself in the mirage of sensation, inside of everything Aha! everything inside
Higher, still, and the reds and oranges deepening into purples and violets,
Further than sensation, deeper and more real the vibrant colours played
In colours and hues and violet and blue skyvibe hanging behind waves of colour
Deeper and luminous voluminous inside my head whilst soup swirls darker grey
In a thin strip over distant hills settled in snowy cloud above yet still the colours turned overhead intense yet higher climbing on,
Towards the sky spreading out further and higher and wider and deeper; fine fibrillating tumultuous colour bowl,
Graduating dissipating ripples as sun deepened, hidden by hills, wave-lengthening stretched across the sky.
I fly over hill and water just for its own sake, recumbent cushioned in abandon on air all about hues and colours
Rippling away horizon banded coloured shifting shapes, the light strikes the ground it rebounds all
Is haloed in soft pink light haloed and I and the tree and the ground echoes and rebounds,
Stretches off low horizon bound in dark shadows the lights move far beyond
Horizon unbound in flaring shadows of coruscating light, moving far beyond fire-flied
Encased entombed in a region of no-light and no-sound yet further out the trees tinged
Rolling across my face in red in orange in yellow in blue in indigo violet ongoing overtowering
Still recumbent beneath the sky, wind in my hair, cold human senses overridden by pleasure
Below rushes the green earth, fields and hedges and roads all too-fast to see beneath me;
Faster and faster still I don’t feel sick, but I ought to rushing I feel the turning speed on
Still vibrate with the colours all pulsing inside my head until all is subtle tinted faintly dying
Spectrum slitted colour splitted subtle tinted faintly dying
In the depths and hollows the gently fading light distils and spills in waves, linking,
As we go lower, return to your hill top again the ground beneath, the hard wooden seat
Cold now, but burning, flex, bend and stretch
The moon hangs in misty shaded coolness against a blue to black darkened sky, so slowly, stealthily

Images split and multiply to infinity. Realise. Harmonise.

(C) 1992 Christopher Julian Hudson