Immediacy

From a hill I looked     

And there before me the ever-lasting picture – 

Though ephemeral, it was forever

Beyond me a long lowish land

Flat but rolling 

Stretching on for miles and miles

And the sky was immense – 

To the shock of one who lived surrounded by trees  

And the vividness of white light

Becoming golden, then rose

The ending of day the picture before me

One that no copied image could convey

So penetrating a content of fullness 

Or such shattering beauty 

How could this live on my wall?

Never on one outside me

Within my inner hall the living thing that Lived

And there again the paradox of parallels

The art of the performing poet

The magic of the pavement painter

Both conveyors of Life in the very moment

Being fleeting lasting beyond the moment

Immediacy and the thing's eternal joy