You
caused me miss my lunch,
In my
dream.
There I was,
On what
should have been
The
Finglas Road,
When I saw you,
Coming
Towards me.
When I saw you,
Coming
Towards me.
I cannot
explain the joy
I felt
at meeting you,
After years,
But, in
an instant,
Was aware
Was aware
We had shared
Contrarian opinions,
On art and life,
Before.
This reflection is not
What
delayed my lunch,
But what
came next,
For, in my
flush of joy,
I asked
you to lunch,
But
first to view my house.
To my
own surprise I led you,
Not to
my own home
I had just left,
I had just left,
But my
new house –
New to
me too,
As much as to you -
As much as to you -
Across
the Finglas Road,
Where
the cemetery used to be,
But now
a mansion stood,
An old
house,
Re-modelled,
To my design.
We
climbed the wall
To enter by
To enter by
A modest door.
“This is the front door,”
I said, forI
new no better.
Inside we found
The house was encased
In
Gaudi-style
Adornments,
Transforming
it
Into a magical thing
Into a magical thing
Like
Barcelona Cathedral.
Inside we found
Two functional
So, my new
Winding stairs,
(Intellectually),
At the expense
Of foregoing
Ordinary things, like lunch;
Gaudi-style adornments
Memories, Dreams, Reflections (Flamingo) C. J. Jung
Glasnevin Tower Stairs to be re-built (Report Dec 2013)
Living
rooms,
But, beyond,
A further door,
A further door,
Of glass with oak uprights,
Leading
to
A wonderful foyer,
A wonderful foyer,
With stained
glass wall -
The
visitors’ front door -
And
in that foyer,
Indoor growing trees,
Indoor growing trees,
And another door
To a room
On the other side,
On the other side,
And, to
your enquiry,
Quickly
thinking
Of the utility-value
Of the utility-value
Of a
room
On the far side
From the living quarters,
On the far side
From the living quarters,
I said,
“That leads to the
Committee Room,”
Committee Room,”
But,
when
We went through
That door,
That door,
It led
to
A tower-room
A tower-room
And a
winding staircase
Down to
A lower
Level.
The
tower
Was filled with light,
Was filled with light,
And to
prove me not wrong,
There
was, at the bottom,
A table and chairs,
A table and chairs,
For
committee business.
And the
winding stair,
It
instantly occurred to me,
Was not
darkly enclosed in stone
Like the
stairs
In Saint Peter’s Church
In Saint Peter’s Church
I had to
climb
To the choir loft
To the choir loft
When I
joined the choir
At seven
years of age,
And
found
Quite terrifying,
Claustrophobic.
Quite terrifying,
Claustrophobic.
So, my new
Winding stairs,
In my
new house,
Was
completely open,
And walkers were assisted
By a thin hand-rail.
And then
I woke
From my dream,
From my dream,
And
realised
That I had missed
My lunch,
That I had missed
My lunch,
For I
had delayed too long
Showing
you,
And discovering,
My new
house.
Being
schooled
By Carl Jung
By Carl Jung
I cannot
but think
That my new house
That my new house
Is a
great new
Enterprise
Or group of enterprises
I am
about to engage (Intellectually),
At the expense
Of foregoing
Ordinary things, like lunch;
A great
house
Of multiple rooms,
Some
plain, some exotic,Of multiple rooms,
Each
room
A new idea
To explore,
A new idea
To explore,
And a tower
Of thought and
Reflection;
Of thought and
Reflection;
And you, Shawn,
Some dorment aspect
Of myself.
Gaudi-style adornments
Memories, Dreams, Reflections (Flamingo) C. J. Jung
Glasnevin Tower Stairs to be re-built (Report Dec 2013)
No comments:
Post a Comment