Nothingness has caught me by the throat
Tossed me to the innards of its prayer
Joan of Arc unhorsed in a nightmare
Burgundy makes offers for her coat
When we’re real and know the here and now
Do we entertain our thoughts and dare
To let perception grow in all its flair
Lamenting foreign insights we won’t know
From the mountain, I see Windermere
I see Coniston and Morecambe Bay
I see sheep and flat green fields arrayed
The shadows of the hills , the dread, the fear
Where can we be now on this our March?
The moon, the sky , the aluminium arc
The universal suffrage of the dark
The rights of strangers, the Triumphal Arch
How my heart sings 