Our Shangri-La


Gardens At Riverhill

We keep looking our Shangri-La
Our Shangri-La
But we wouldn’t know it
If it hit us in the face.

Kim Wilde

1. The Walled Garden

I’ll listen to the wind
seek sounds of chimes
looking for Shangri-La.

2. Two Dreamers
For Jilly Sutton

Broken faces:
two gods at odd angles.

Behind them
a tunnel burrowing into the hill.

No wall, or face
holds back the dreams.

3. Up to the View Point

Through the woods
Goethe’s words:
Über allen Gipfeln
Ist Ruh
In allen Wipfeln
Spürest du
Kaum einen Hauch

The noise of the traffic fades.

push through me,
lift a flag
in the shape
of woman’s long glove.

4. Near the View Point

Though not as high,
I think of Herman Buhl
near Nanga Parbat’s peak
with spirits of mountaineers
and my ancestor lost there.

I remember Pablo Neruda,
hand plunging
into the earth at Maccu Piccu:
Madre de piedra, espuma de los cóndores.

I feel the wind
push through me,
lift a flag
in the shape
of woman’s long glove.

 5. Back Down to the Maze

one day
will make
walls of a maze.

In its centre
a Sentry protects:
a secret, a jewel
an audience
with a King or Queen.

Nobody comes out.

A magpie flies
low over
young walls:
the path of resistance
is such a bore.

Graham Mummery

6th June 2014

1 Above every peak / Peace / Above every treetop / You hear / Hardly a breath- Goethe: Wanderer’s Night Song

2 Mother of stone and sperm of condors-Pablo Neruda; The Heights of Maccu Piccu.

2 thoughts on “Our Shangri-La”

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