To a deeper sun I felt I had responded
Soft light behind the eyes
Like crossing tidal lines upon a beach
A scent, a fleeting touch
A feeling words can seldom reach
With light like artist’s silk upon the breeze
I struggle to define this place
Or point a finger at its heart
Save that it was as far from summer
As summer is from winter
As entered space yields motion
Whose duration gives us time
So this land pulls my seeing self
Yet shows the hand is mine
Three states, four seasons now align
To one all-being view
One secret gate, a smile of fate
That gently draws the splinter
My secret summer’s not so far
As summer is from winter
©Stephen Tanham 2021
Stephen Tanham is a Director of the Silent Eye, a journey through the forest of personality to the dawn of Being.
www.thesilenteye.co.uk and www.suningemini.blog
Wonderful post
Thank you, Tanvir.
So poignantly sensual, Steve. I feel it tingling through my being.
Thank you, Caroline. Completed while I was walking through a local forest.