It Seemed

Symbiain Intelligence presents. It Seemed. A poem by Iain Davie.

It seemed those luminous days would never end; yet my soul had felt empty and so I thought of a trip to the country or the sea or a lake.

the station was very crowded full of children and dogs and luggage bound by straps, like being in a tunnel from where I finally emerged, having rented a bicycle at my mountain side inn, to a brilliance of which as if a roof of glass magnified the light, with me in a comfortable feeling having felt heavy and drained from that darkness the previous day.

for my interest was in the secret life into which few can penetrate to which I had hoped at the mountainside cave, at the end of that dusty way, by the empty stone cottage and pleasant grass of wheat coloured stretches then green and recumbent and rich, I would open up and self-prescribe a cure, by the wisdom of the generations, with a knowledge that need not question itself, skirted by strands of trees, as if a huge deck of images, hand shuffled to silence and please.

now I was across from the cottage and curious as to an open garden gate paralleling the sandy dusty way, I did hesitate, yet drifted inside, the sun hitting my face reflected by the beautiful stones in the wall, that if passing quickly would have easily remained unseen some pale as bread others sea dark, my eyes then fully opened, for in the near distance was an open window to the warm morning air and now to my ear the patter of light heels on stone floors from inside, and me thinking it’s fine, that travellers can stare idly through open windows and roving the flowers in the box, to then now see inside in a mirror her hair gleaming and silken a silent girl with a face like a bird from heaven one of those pretty little faces the bones close beneath, a passionate face, the face of a girl who might move to the city, large eyes framed by dark fine delicate brows in reflection, and in seeing her so clearly, she could not see me, yet her eyes are dark she can see through people her nose feminine and me curious to see her teeth she touches her dark silken hair first beneath her ear, then the other and earrings, no polish on her fingernails and she now motionless stares at herself inverted for what she sees is the opposite, and I cannot take my eyes from her, and me now worried that she might finally look out of her window, and me with a sudden spell of nervousness, stark as a monument to her universal beauty; the details of a whole new world being opened up to me as I quietly carried myself back through her gate then along that dusty path to arrive at the cave, that the whole idea of coming here seemed visionary Symbiain Intelligence. Clearer evidence. Better questions. Human judgement.