Sunday, 5 February 2012

Dylan Thomas... Not



















Fierce in cold was the Winter day
That I threw off all the old ways
And wore like a prince a new cloak
Of knowing and Doing
And letting no other step in my path to happiness.

The frost burnt into my hands
And into the bark of trees.
That fed from the still liquid
But lived as I shall live -
Through the Winter of our failures.
To rise up to the bloody sun.
To offer my soul still breathing
From the endless striving will.

Look on me with eyes that hide compassion.
That hides the means to break the yoke
And thrust through the cell of self
Into a new world green and life-new in youth.
Open up to me the springs of the fresh world.
Bathe me until my body is red and sore with experience.

I am waiting, close to you in moors
That sing your name through beauty.
I hold up my soul in this close-to-heaven heaven.

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