the tide grinds it to sand. Viewed through the telescopic
glass of geology, mountains collapse to seabeds,
reptiles leave to return as hummingbirds, scallop shells
arise in their brittle white gowns to haunt hilltops banked
over the bones of whales. Yet now, alift with earthquake,
floating on dry land is new to you: “Earth, the emblem
of all that is solid, moves beneath our feet, a crust
over a fluid.” You are a skater on wafer-
thin ice, or a ship skidding over a cross-ripple.
The cathedral’s portal, tilted seawards, is a prow
of arched oak scudding over bobbing rubble. So much
for founding a church on a rock, you think, when keystones
founder, crack, split, fragment. Even the hand-picked Peter
Comments (1 comments)
Unni Krishnan Atiyodi: Sprung rhythm has a strange beauty. A man who can 'fence' with words alone is an expert in it. The romantic mood conveys a strange emotion. Antique objects speak of prestine glory. The church symbol evokes a scattered thought. It might be religious aberration or cultural bankruptcy and the remnants of the past is strewn everywhere. Interesting indeed! Writes U.K.Atiyodi, Kandangali, Kerala, India August 29, 2008 03:15 EST