Category: #Silenti

Pilgrims of blood and stone

The blood: the Life that flows through us, taken in as breath, fresh each second, flowing out to be renewed in the world of nature; natural, given. The stone: the fixed structures we rely on to ensure persistence of that life-force made flesh. The riddle, the contradiction – the mystery… beginning with that most profound and persistent structure: the body… There is no more … Read More Pilgrims of blood and stone

Vikings Invade Heysham

Every July, for the past few years, the lovely and ancient Lancashire seaside town of Heysham (He-sham) has been invaded by Vikings… They come in their hundreds, bearing their weapons, tents and tools… and with their families. They sweep in from the ‘sea’ and set up camp on the grassy hollows of the playing fields, where their fires soon fill the summer air with … Read More Vikings Invade Heysham

An Orcadian Diary (4): The Light of the North

  We could be in any of the great cathedral cities of Britain. If someone took off the blindfold and asked, we might say Salisbury, York, Lichfield or the wonders of Durham Cathedral. The latter is significant, because they who built Durham came here to add their skills… We are in the capital of Orkney – Kirkwall (reference ‘F’ in the Northlink Ferry’s map, … Read More An Orcadian Diary (4): The Light of the North

Ash Samara

➰ In the gold-washed glow on green Of July’s vivid evening blue I watch your spinning fall to earth ➰ Through softer air than day’s has been Your path to ground is freshly spoken The soil-drawn spiral just for you ➰ Entranced, enspelled, entwined My sight conceives of your conception In six seconds of descending grace ➰   Stephen Tanham is a director of … Read More Ash Samara

The Feather

There was a feather on his pillow when he settled down to sleep that last time. He had no idea where it had come from. If it was time to die, so be it… Always the same beginning to the dream; the swim to the hidden beach on the Greek island, the beautiful sun blazing down on his naked body–far from the world he … Read More The Feather

Castles of the Mind (2)

Continued from Part One As the group walk through the arched entranceway to the interior of the castle, a new feeling emerges: one of ‘being in it, together’. The transition from outer to inner space of the newly considered ‘organism’ of the castle brings with it other changes of perspective. One of these is that a process – that of the weekend, itself, has … Read More Castles of the Mind (2)

Castles of the Mind (1)

Like the best of ideas, it begins with a partly-seen ghost, the glimmer of an edge of something that will work…. Ideas are great, but, unless something is practical and consistent on the day, its value is limited to fuelling a ‘greater’ idea that will be. And then the right idea expands, filling out, not linearly, but with emotions that billow like a spinnaker on … Read More Castles of the Mind (1)

The kiss of summer

Against the heat, I have to climb To drink the air so soft and fine That my sore feet and too hot dog Seek, daily in these fleeting months For she who hides the winter in the wine ___ In heady breaths of fragrant fire My lungs draw deep the hotter bliss Now fading like the summer’s arc Will shortly start to downward curve … Read More The kiss of summer

Patterned in Dorset (4)

He did not know how many were up there… Centurion Calogerus stared at the edge of the plateau above him. The vast hill-fort rose from the chalk lands below in what appeared to be a series of grassy layers. There were no walls that he could see. This would be quick… As the dawning sun of the year’s longest day crested the edge of … Read More Patterned in Dorset (4)

Patterned in Dorset (3)

It is said that a chapel dedicated to St Catherine once stood on this hill, looking down at the little town of Cerne Abbas, below. The original St Catherine was a pre-Christian figure about whom very little is known. She was associated with the symbol of an eight-armed wheel – the famous ‘Catherine wheel’, remembered now in the name of a firework…. Those visiting … Read More Patterned in Dorset (3)

Jewels in the Claw (viii)

Continued from Part Seven. He – the man with the packing cases – picks up his empty tea cup and begins to walk towards the small table near the entrance door of the large room in which the mystery play ran its course. It’s important that everything is cleared, he thinks; restored to how it was, pristine… Laughing to himself, he realises that he … Read More Jewels in the Claw (viii)

Jewels in the Claw (vii)

Continued from Part Six. The tea cup is empty, but he continues to hold it – lost, happily, in his reveries on the edge of what was the stage, the royal court floor… He looks down at the cup and then lifts it to toast the great lady from the Saracen world, an unfinished woman who surprised a Queen of England… or did she? … Read More Jewels in the Claw (vii)