Standing
still and gazing from an ivory tower
Looking
out upon a landscape
That
took your breath away . . .
Leaving
you helpless in hushed silence
Impotent,
held fast by its majestic imprint
Upon
your soul, its indelible mark in your spirit . . .
Astounded
that the power of distant hills
Slopes
of greening trees
Mesmerizing
valleys and purple mountains
Should
so take you with it and blend you
With
that patchwork tapestry of tiny fields beyond
That
you were caught up in the eclectic interplay
Of
its magical colours, shapes and forms
With
the music which is the harmony of its inner substance
Captured
by that hint it was given to give
Of
a further far country past the boundaries
Caught
in the rapture which splendid towers can engender
In
the midst of a people, broken, lost in wonder, but
Found
with the most magical ingredient of all . . . joy!
The
Joy which has not yet any words to describe it
But
this picture . . .
Hops
and skips and little jumps
Borne
upon tiptoes in steps so lifted
Your
feet were hardly touching the ground
And,
tumbling wheels, turning cartwheels inside
And,
spinning round and round and round
While
standing not so still gazing from an ivory tower
Looking
out upon a landscape
That
took your breath away . . .
*
