The poem is about the joys of Museli or maybe about risk taking as a path to achievement or
more accurately freedom of purpose
Book 301 is intended to be a collection of poems by Mike Burr for 2010 with no thematic precept.
Muse
muses of gloom
threading your complex plaids
desire and stitches held between the
walls of white distempered daub
i tell you quiet friends and peasants
walk out through the low hovelled door jamb
of your dank croft and run
quick footed to the well
cast your hopes into its depths
can you hear them long after the abraded walls
have let go their cries ?
can you hear them swimming
in the streams of subconscious earth
can you hear the rising trout sing
and the distant pipes
desire among the very heather
for weak are those that hold to bondage
when the fates are spirit free
the tiring tides of commonplace and compromise
will erode your slowly falling mortar
and moons will lift croft like tides
your dry limed stones and wattle matte
falling jumbled into small tombs
wherein your emaciated bones are
crushed against the clever fabric
or sieved through an open weave
their decomposing glue and stitches all undone
swum across the ever fading dyes of time
for in that final darkness all is gone
nothing except that we live with spirit
and the apostles of our own desires
lead our way naked through life's
cold toothed mountain passes
and retrenched and thorn throned vales
protected in only self belief
for once ties are cast into the well
who knows what river they will find to pass their course
these faithless secrets you must find within yourself
and those who don't seek these things
may never aspire to that holistic exercise : success or failure
the outcome is the same
to know oneself is a beauty and a journey forever
it is the first and maybe last adventure
and perceived from its vault {base}
a pool of circadian sky in the material above and here below
a well full of changing phantom patterns
a well never truly dry