Thus I spake
Before I knew of words
Robin and Arthur called
And I ran after,
Through those sun filled meadows
(Looking at the golden grass)
Near to the castle.
The dark forest beaconed though
I pretended not to hear
Satisfied myself with mere apple trees.
(Whence comes that sweetness?)
No idea that god was so near,
Like a snowbank north of the house.
College too receded,
Jobs and tools cane and went
As the computers filled in
Keeping the mystics at bay.
Until Heathers present one birthday.
Thus the sun came again to Konya.
And all the words I thought I knew
Became the babbling of an infant.
Oh god please teach me more!
20191011 – For the prompt at Poets United to respond to a collection that has touched me deeply. The first literary anything that moved me was the tales of King Arthur and Robin Hood, though i didn’t understand then quite how or why, i just knew what i liked. The grass seemed golden. In 2015 i found Robert Bly, here i reference his poem Snowbanks North of the House. Most recently i’ve been infatuated with Jallaludin Rumi, who met his mystic in Konya in the 13th century.