In this Jung Platform lecture excerpt, Robert explores the intertwining of psyche and nature in the context of the ecological crisis of the melting polar ice.
To celebrate National Poetry Month in April, Robert was invited to publish 3 poems:
Just Wondering
Early Summer Mornings
Being Elemental
To visit the site where they are published go to
http://mythopoetry.blogspot.com/2017/04/poets-of-mythopoetry-robert-d.html
Exiting the House of Academia in Depth Insights: Seeing the World with Soul, Fall/Winter 2015
Dec 1, 2019 Sunsetting, Alaign, France
Ronald Duncan's Hut
The miracle in the mundane,
The extra-ordinary in the ordinary
Happens at Ronald Duncan’s hut
Sitting quietly, trying to wait out
the thoughts in my mind
--taking flight like weightless birds--
to make a place for what wants to be here:
different birds--
born in their resistance to gravity—
pull me toward the sky,
wondering if they know the currents of air that
hold them up to soar,
or
if it is the wind calming their desperate flapping, inviting their trust in its promise.
Into this emptying space whispers:
ocean
sky
rock and wind
tides
clouds
birds
color
there and there and there flowers
hills
green
curving
sliding
up
down
rolling waves of stillness
Stones
Words!
Sum Zero!!
Should I go into the hut
to write this—is it a poem?—
on paper?
Hesitate!
Then I see him as I turn a corner
(Rilke’s man on the hill who,
overlooking his valley for the last time,
will stop and turn and linger
we do live our lives
forever taking leave)
Cap on his head,
walking stick in hand,
sweatered in green
He stands there
I retreat
wait a bit
Do I want this quiet solitude disturbed?
Turning again round the corner toward the hut.
he is gone
Crossing the threshold into the room
the man on the hill
is present
Andrew Lawson!!!
He has brought books of John Moat
as if he has granted my wish
to have a book of poems, and his especially,
to companion me in this poet’s hut
It is a meeting of two old men
who have climbed this hill,
a journey whose beginnings are fogged in mystery
We talk of the landscape,
its quiet peace
We talk of ageing,
of who we have been and not been
of what we have done and not done
Modestly!
Only stories
in this moment that
has always been
and will be
NOW!
When we part,
the hut has had a drop of grace
added to its walls
July 15, 2019 Mead Farm, Devon, England
