In the silver woodland above the river,
I chanced upon an unnatural cut, a glade,
So broad and long, this open swathe,
That I could not fathom how ’twas made.
I wandered down to the riverside,
Over the sprigs of bracken and broken boughs,
Across the view I had never seen,
O’er the river sluggish and wide.
On the other bank were grasses,
And tall trees I knew from below.
The rabbits played while I smiled,
As beside the me the river flowed.
I stood beside the trickling brook,
And listened to the waters,
As they wandered down their gentle way
To join Poseidon’s daughters.
They flowed around a fallen branch,
And on their shining surface,
The pylons stood silently,
Nature’s tranquility not disturbing.
They spread man’s comfort across this empty ground,
And I felt harmony with the world;
At peace with all around.
The mighty pylons silhouetted,
Against the sinking sun,
Made me ask myself again:
How was this place begun?
Too late I saw the scars
Where the saplings once did bleed,
Too late I saw the stumps
Of mighty oaken trees.
And there I stood in that perfect place,
While still the river flowed,
Surrounded by the casualties
Of man’s power and machines.
I climbed the banks, I walked away,
From where nature was despised,
But still I smiled for the time I spent
Beyond the riverside.
This poem was, as I am sure is fairly clear, inspired by a walk I took near the house where I was raised. I had not been there for some time, due to my studies, and naturally the difference struck me. The balance between nature and the technology required for people to maintain a normal standard of life is a difficult one.
The Hapless Neo-Romantic