A simple poem about landscapes that we hold in our minds and mix up as we dream. There is a reference to Bob Dylan’s “Jokerman” and some influence from the Schubert/Goethe song Erlkönig. But none of that has any importance.
Landscape
An imaginary landscape always lies before us
Its hills and valleys like an eiderdown
Across forest and field wind blowing furious
Bending trees towards some tiny town
The sea beyond the sand-blown shore
Reflecting blueish, green and grey
Our inner ear hears wild waves roar
We see dark of night and light of day
A visitant’s vision: “Come closer” call the clouds
Silhouettes striding along battered beach
Their figures faint as shrunken shrouds
Beyond all our imaginations’ reach
And as distant ships sail into the mist
That settles sinking below sullen sky
Our head and face by raindrops kissed
That trickle from brow to lid to eye
And along the clifftop horsemen ride
As if pushed by giant unseen hand
They leap with long and eerie stride
As they pass behind a bold brass band
That plays any common cavalry tune
The conductor’s baton piercing darkened air
Dark grey gives way to a monster moon
And shadows bend beneath moonbeams’ glare
Then turning around, we see inland
The smoke and lights of a civilisation
A display that was by humans planned
A truth that’s born of realisation
That what is in the mind might be real
Regardless of any physical existence
And however rational we might feel
A landscape is as good as its memory’s persistence