High Tide

August 7, 2019

‘If a tree falls in a forest and no-one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?’.

 By way of George Berkeley [1685 to 1753]

 

The tide of trees is in, up against the glass,

Silence but for the drip of rain on stone

As I wait here indoors for it to pass,

Floating in the forest, we are alone.

I am the gatepost, fern filled and mossed

Paddling in grasses and rosebay willow herb,

Empty, my old gates fallen and long lost,

But which no storm can harm or disturb.

Or I am the stove, where the light is green,

Swimming in the shallows of leaf and tree,

Witness to something only I have seen,

And I rework Berkeley’s old philosophy.

Are we in a an aquarium looking out,

Or outside looking in; besieged by doubt.

 

 

 

Share on Facebook
Share on Twitter
Please reload

Recent Posts

August 7, 2020

March 10, 2020

February 4, 2020

December 31, 2019

December 9, 2019

November 1, 2019

August 7, 2019

Please reload

Archive
Please reload

Search By Tags