The “Point” is Everywhere

Bloodily tumble-tossed
from Grave Exit
back to
Womb Entrance…
to once again,
crooked-path
a learning curve
between them.
It’s not Midwife’s slap
which makes me din,
but the memory slate
wiping itself clean,
and blessed Annwn
pulsing away behind me…
as first breath
mounts a Warhorse
and Battle-Cries,
this, my newest Birth.
‘It’s all locked inside,
go find the Keys…
they hide in Literature,
Music, and Paintings’.
From first Step, to Run,
to unsteady Stumble…
I Gather and Give,
closing Doors, tightly,
to Seal and Open
each transitional Circle.

Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer, who’s currently up to his elbows in Magic, and long may it remain this way. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.