скачать книгу бесплатно
Of the cradle, the field, the hearth,
From the gray stones of the graveyard,
From the moss that steals over the names
Of a long line of ancestors.
Songs of warmth,
Of embracing arms and sheltering walls.
These songs promise to turn
The terrors, the regrets
Of past voyages,
The uncharted vastness of the future
Into words, into lusty tales
That can be traded
For a hearty tankard of ale
A seat close to the fireplace,
The eager gaze of a rapt listener.
5. Nightmares and their riders
I have nightmares now.
I dream that something happened to you…
Anastasya Shepherd
A nightmare is a kind of horse:
A powerful creature, wild and willful.
Approach her with respect, with skill,
For she may bite, kick or rear;
She may leave the one who dares to touch her
Broken, paralyzed, dead.
Yet she is capable of learning to accept a rider.
Balancing on the back of a nightmare,
Riding a dark dream,
We can leap much farther than is humanly possible.
A nightmare can carry us across an abyss.
6. Trains and their dreamers
The train stitches together images,
like a demented alliterating seamstress…
Anastasya Shepherd
The distant clatter
Of the predawn train
Quilts the quiet air,
Pulls the thread of the whistle
Long, long, l-o-ong
Through the mist.
Between sleeping and waking
I dream.
I piece together
Stations, timetables, tickets
To choose my own destination,
To fashion a different self.
7. Synaesthesia
There are times in life when synaesthesia becomes inescapable,
when water smells like lead and feels blue…
Anastasya Shepherd
Escape is possible.
Search the floor of your perception,
Feel for the hidden trapdoor,
The moment of synaesthesia.
Pry it open,
Heave it up on its rusty hinges.
Plunge into the blue.
Roll up, solid, dull,
Like a ball of lead.
Sink through the water,
Pass through the gradations
Of the shimmering light
Deepening into darkness,
As the shadows thicken.
Let go of all
That has been visible.
Feel the weight of the ocean
Press you to the bottom.
Smell your own fear.
Taste the bile of loss.
Rise, rise like an air bubble.
Push through the cool resistance
Until you are released,
Until you burst into nothingness.
Let the freedom of empty space
Flood your senses with joy.
8. The Age of Discovery
You make choices.
Those choices make you.
Then you make choices.
Always a spiral – upwards or downwards – it's your choice.
Anastasya Shepherd
Having circumnavigated our world,
I realize that it is not a sphere,
But a spiral.
I am back where I started from.
The path ahead is as unknown
As it was before the journey.
But you, my friend,
Who steadfastly stayed here
At the origin,
How did you find out?
Or was it clear?
Was it clear all along?
Theological Questions
Circling the pulsing center of their universe
The fish are passing through sunlight and shadow.
Their existence is framed, circumscribed, and protected
By the carved marble rim of the fountain’s basin.
Do they fear or worship the hand that feeds them,
