Illumination, by pd lyons, from Searches For Magic

gets the urge for going


Soft suede footsteps
Well-worn stones
Lead to iron hinged oak doors
Behind murmured speculations,
Assumed by brothers to be prayers
Clenched in mysterious positions
Hidden hands
Deep in caves of burlap sleeves.

We send messages on the wind,
Leaves from some ancient
Oracle, confused enlightenment delivered
To unknown supplicants.
Sometimes smoke is the only movement.
Through the gates no faithful messenger returns,
Through the courtyard no traveller leads his weary horse.
Sometimes night
Is the only whisper.

Fingers, stained with fading lilies
Broken  paper petals twirl, shifting shapes
With gravity as if some subtle sign
Yet again, resigned to mere ink,
Another day unravels.

Reluctantly we wait,
Fearing that there is after all no one out there,
And that even god exists only as some
Finger printed memory




this poem is from the Lapwing Press publication : Searches For Magic by pd Lyons in 2001. Dennis Grieg editor. Gideon Grieg cover image. It was through Dennis’s kindness, and might I say sense of good taste, that my father got to see my work in book form. I was proud of that.

where i work

where i work


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