An unusual poem this post.
I shall leave you to read it for yourselves.
Here is a very rare video of Jaki Whitren from 1973. This was a small hit. I had the LP. She only made the one. What a voice!
I shall leave you to read it for yourselves.
For
Ollie
In
the morning there was loss.
He
had hoped it would be different,
that
the luminous green coral
which had formed baroque knots
on
his ceiling the night before,
would
still be there...
It was not.
The scales had fallen on to his eyes once more.
It was not.
The scales had fallen on to his eyes once more.
The
shamanic pattern that had overlaid his vision
and
granted him glimpses of a truth
so
much older than human time had fled.
There
had been communion then,
there
would be again.
I think we are all connected by the land we live on to the changing season's, but we have forgotten to listen as they ancestors once listened. This inability to hear has taken us out of step with the land.Here is a very rare video of Jaki Whitren from 1973. This was a small hit. I had the LP. She only made the one. What a voice!
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