Thursday, April 16, 2009

A Door Dream . . .

.
Ancient stone cut from the heart of the Earth
Ancient walls raised by the hands of men long since dead
Ancient stairs could have been cut perfectly straight but
Were laid out in flowing curves concentric long ago
Rough hewn cobbles pave the walk
An opening in the wall calls
Imagine passing through
Never turning back
Nothing would ever be the same
Through the gate
Lies a land of dreams
I've been dreaming of it
For ages
But had lost this image
It had lain in a drawer
Neglected
For year after year after year
Finding old piles of negatives
Finally looking at them
Is like recovering from amnesia
The fragrance of memory returns
The feeling at the moment the shutter snapped
Twenty years ago
The opening in an ancient wall
Calling beckoning beguiling
The siren song of the unknown
The land of dreams beyond . . .
.
.































.
.

10 comments:

Holly Friesen said...

Beautiful, inspiring post

Jill said...

It seems to me that you have a fascination for places that are hidden and secret. That is a strong theme with you: entering a private place, going through a door, a gate, into another world where a mystery awaits...Am I right?...That's one of the things that's cool about the way Theo's blog is set up--click on the image and you enter his world (it was in his followers gadget that you found me, but I tend to disappear and hide when I need to).

AmyR said...

And what a grand door it is! Great post and photo.

Nathalie said...

This poem could be titled
"Self-portrait, awakening".

Beautiful.

Nathalie said...

Owen, in the "meet your neighbors" category, two blogs you might enjoy checking out:

Paris Breakfasts
http://parisbreakfasts.blogspot.com/

Paris by Peter
http://peter-pho2.blogspot.com/

Not Waving but Drowning said...

Beautiful, strong composition,

GG

Alex said...

Hi Owen, love this photo, it's very atmospheric in mono. You have a great eye.

jeff34 said...

J'ai essayé de tout comprendre... et j'ai pas mal compris de choses cher Owen ! T'as pondu là une belle poésie très... comment dire... nostalgique ! Quoi de plus beau que la poésie...! L"amour ?
Mais j'ai l'impression d'être un intrus au milieu de tous ces englishs ! Nath, arrêtes de te la péter grave ! Non mais Owen j'ai pas raison...? Sacré Nath !

henk van es said...

Wonderful text, Owen.

Owen Phillips said...

I would like to thank all of you who dropped in and left these encouraging comments. In my humble beginnings at blogging, your words are like the rays of light bursting through the clouds in the photo just below this one.

I think a journalist once asked John Fowles (author of "The French Lieutenant's Woman" among others) why he wrote... Fowles' response was to the effect of, "I write because I am profoundly dissatisfied with the world as it is". I adhere entirely to that notion... and hope through writing and photographing and blogging to step through a gateway to a better world... and you are welcome to join me there... with pleasure !