When the blackbird flew out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.
(From Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird by Wallace Stevens)
For me ‘over the horizon’ means whatever is beyond our perception or which we cannot conceptualize. Wallace Stevens’s wonderful poem reaches out beyond the frontiers of poetry, philosophy, mathematics and language and can be looked at in many different ways. The galaxies and universes, I wrote about last week, are beyond my understanding. Songwriters, however, find love beyond the horizon:
Beyond the Horizon, behind the sun
At the end of the rainbow, life has only begun
In the long hours of twilight underneath the stardust above
beyond the horizon it is easy to love. (From Beyond the Horizon byBob Dylan)
I did a freewrite to try to discover what lay over the horizon for me and the direction it took me was unexpected.
Just below where the woodman’s axe
sliced to leave an artificial platform,
they clamour for attention.
(I’d have noticed if they’d been there the day before).
Theirs is not the doom and gloom presaged
by pumpkins or the imitative coral tint
of tropical mangrove swamps. The shape
of their fungal fronds and their radial energy
derive from chakra painted in persimmon.
A week later, they are unremarkable;
flaccid and dulled to burnt umber.
(Persimmon is an orange-red Japanese fruit and chakra is a Sanskrit word for the centre of energy represented by the wheel or circle.)