Ah, the Christmas Poem.
Thank you, Ian - and all peace & good thing to you and yours.
I was tinkering with a poem about the land, the earth, the prima materia of every golf course for all of time.
Thank you, friend, for letting us know
the earth at rest: secure, and at peace
with her rhythm, breathing slow and deep
in millennials the valleys, the glaciers, the fields
and trees, and oceans.
here the full patterned rightness:
the damp hidden birthplaces,
the time, the wombs, the fossilized
layers like thick woven blankets,
the desert places renewed
over a millennium of renewals beneath
a dark endless sky. the games and rhythms of life
here, the veils of hurried fractured sound, and touch: an earth-life,
shared in the love that moves the stars by an earth that
knows to rest: her breath as measured and serene
as the everlasting.
thank you, friend, for letting us know.