we grant there is a territory, wild,
a landscape not of rock or river carved,
but shaped from primal feeling, raw and undefiled,
a thicket of the spirit, darkly starved
and lush by turns. this is the inner wood,
where ancient fears like tangled roots are laid,
and awe hangs heavy in the atmosphere,
a storm of self that cannot be allayed.
this is no flaw in our design, no fault
......
we grant there is a territory, wild,
a landscape not of rock or river carved,
but shaped from primal feeling, raw and undefiled,
a thicket of the spirit, darkly starved
and lush by turns. this is the inner wood,
where ancient fears like tangled roots are laid,
and awe hangs heavy in the atmosphere,
a storm of self that cannot be allayed.
this is no flaw in our design, no fault
......