A poetry of place

At first there is a sudden peace;
A silence as tangled words uncoil,
An expectation of imminent release,
Of spirits stirring in the living soil.

A special sense becomes attached to ground;
The grammar of thought has a locative case:
A characteristic blend of sight and sound,
As a glimpse of a half-remembered face.

Out of the quiet, an idea takes shape,
Echoing the structure of the land.
Fresh eyes see old paths, old escapes,
Old hazards, and then understand.

A sympathy links eye and mind,
Ego dissolves; skin ceases to divide
Senser from sense, signer from signed;
External states reflect inside.

The trance then fades and disappears,
Leaving behind it, as a trace,
A note in the archaeology of ideas;
An instance of the poetry of place.


Martin Locock, 1998