Euphoria

 

The first two lines of this little number were written in a grubby apartment above the shops in Manor House, North London to be completed some eighteen months later as I sailed out of Glacier Bay, Alaska. Maybe I had an insight to moving away from the stagnating cloy of a big city to a wider world –  I know not, but the lines sum up the sheer enormity of my time on the Pacific West Coast not expecting this world to deliver such beauty.

I have

Seen the dove fly from the Ark

And pure white light beyond the dark

Heard the sound of Sirens sing

Kissed the sky on a nightingale’s wing

Breathed the air of the Phoenix fire

Caressed the pit of carnal desire

Held the essence of thunder cloud

Smelt the sorrow on a widow’s shroud

Sipped the honey of Royal bees

Reached the depth of the deepest seas

And lived, and lived, and lived again

Respired, inspired, expired,

Amen

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