Into a pool
Where the soft luminous light
Unpicks the shrouded sight
And cleansing streams excite
World so bright and blithe this September morn,
Rich stillness reaches in the dazzling blue
Turning the soul to a crystal clear view;
Worries slip away in the stream unshorn
Hardly a creature woken from slumber,
The currents of life, flowing swiftly on
Sweeping the dust with a natural song.
Freeing the dazed heart from pockmarked blunder
Sweet pulse, that throbs in the shimmering scene;
A feast of delights that requires no meat
Or pleasures that thicken and make one mean.
Sifted sunshine brings cheer to forlorn feet
On the sinuous path that is serene
A draught of clear cheer leaches cold deceit.
When the body is jaded, terrorised and assailed by the travails of life, just to look at you lifts the spirits. You are a restorer and enthraller, forever alive, yielding much yet concealing of your unending power. Like a stately seneschal, you stand tall. Observing your splendour throughout the seasons, scaling your slopes at various times in my life, I remain bewitched by your presence. You have as many personalities as there are moods in the weather; this is the spell you radiate. Yet you can be brutal; this too, I love. The seismic thrill of nature’s roar, a reminder of man’s paltry insignificance in the wider scheme of things.
Even in the worst of conditions you still give of yourself. How can I ever forget embracing your plateau in a raging tempest, knocked horizontal by the squalling rain, clutching a fistful of earth as a sign of reassurance. The elemental tremors far from being fear-inducing were wildly exciting, a reminder of the forces you have embraced and unleashed for millennia. Shaped and moulded, forever breathing, you are a living being that transcends man’s crudities and vanities. The folly of mankind is no match for the beacon of magnificence you transmit.
Therefore, the least that I can do is sing your praises. You who has given so much. You, who has inspired me with thoughts, such as these, and upon whom I have entertained a myriad of meditations on many subjects. A quickening presence, yet also a peak of peace, where swirling thoughts can be marshalled and brought to some kind of order. But not too regimented, for in chaos there is a latent beauty. Pen-y-fan, I salute you. For your glory and grandeur, your power and pulchritude, your mystery and mysticism, your constancy and certitude. To pay heed to the timelessness of your beauty is my ardent duty.
Always be questing
Truth is arresting
A glance at the stars
Pours balm on what scars
The trip does not stop
Like waves in motion
Taste in every drop
Earth’s sweet emotion
These hours are so short
Shun not what you feel
Joy is caught in thought
Freedom of the wheel
And as the sun breaks
On the brim of night
Look at life that shakes
With trembling delight