P436V2

And so, time passes - even for the daughter of Pohjola

Mar 2023
Digital collage / computer generated
57.5cm (22.5") x 64cm (25")







At that hour, in yon grove,
Where waters lap the ash,
Time passes, time passes -
Even for Pohjola's daughter.

0Larger 000Verbal version
0Contents 000Previous image 000File L 000Next image 000Notes and biography
0The other index 000Thumb other index
Old, old, old - long long the years,
Still on your knoll in this glade -
Long since the yellow sun
Melded with blue, blue sky,
All descended to sombre green.

Old, old, old - long long the years,
Skin dried, cracked like parchment -
Colours paled, outlines faded
Clouded eyes seeming so sightless -
Perhaps you only look within?

I am here for your wisdom,
Old woman of the glades,
At the hour, I am told,
The hour you are known to speak -
For your wisdom I am here.

Tell me, if you will, what I need to know, for I do not know what it is I should know.

Why do you remain silent - that too I need to know?

Is this a game played by one who is wise? Must I guess the rules?

Must I know what it is I need to know before I can ask what I should know?

Why, oh why do you remain silent so?

Though your eyes stare unblinking still you breath, still you breath lowly.

Will you not share your wisdom, will you not tell me what I should know?

I turn, no wiser, to quit the scene -
Alert witnesses, the leafs,
Wave gentle sepulchral whispers
'Know only this - time passes.'
Lowly they sigh the sound, lowly.

At this hour, in yon grove,
Where waters lap the ash,
Time passes, time passes...