fish
woven woods and orange berried trees
loose among the fabric of the open day
sheep like ragged clouds or maybe midwives of the turf
a turf and crags and wailing limbs of trees
that bent across the sinking fire
whose arc it seems is never changing year on year
but by disaster or by natures fraction
so the fabric is unleafed and warp and weft
are unravelling
and berries roll the slopes adown
and becks etch deep the continent of malleable soils
the concourse of their effort beached upon the delta
or set to the current wandering sea
for there the dross meet fish
and in their playground how those fish must wonder
what the stuff of earth is like
and dream of convoluted lands
not like the reality of you or i
but in reveries aquamarine
they see a divergent theme in which all things are fish
and in their image they thus procure the world
and should the shadow of a man broach their school of thought
they may wonder at its form and think it dull
for it has no silver flash nor can fly
like freedom among the crystal rays of sun
that flood the azure deeps
nor skim through wave tops dive beneath the storm
or loaf in tickling beds whose woven woods are waving
in their blue bent paradise
are you a fish
whose strange dreams and utopic euphoria
span another world
a world as real but estranged of men
or do you straddle some or most of all existent empathy
because if you do i cannot see it
and though i have made allusions to the vision of fish
i have not described its other worldly detail
and have no real understanding other than
its fractious possibilities
through the iris of temporal man
but in that tangent of worship images
which you may have i one day hope
you will have the intellect to share
and thus instead of hunted and of hunter we may live
as maybe still hunted and hunter
but with precise knowledge of what it means to kill
and not just devour without some conscience
or cognisance of the purity and values
upheld by and within each life
so fabric maybe unleafed and warp and weft
unravelled
that woven woods and orange berried trees
loose among misconceptions of the open day
may pasture wild savage things in predatory awe