Dec 6, 2014

SAWTOOTH POEM #20

Charles Gould in the Cuvier Valley
Poem by: Bert Spinks
Inspired by: Papering Topographies by Sue Henderson (TAS)
3 October - 25 October 2014
Front Gallery, Sawtooth ARI
Photograph by Mel de Ruyter 

The heat beneath the surface squeezed itself to life.
Edifices of russet rock heaved themselves up through sea.
Time swept the upmost strata away;
the scrape of glaciers carved the valleys;
a geologist stood in its midst
and saw stones more precious than gold
for the fact of their being the memory of a planet.

All things ached and throbbed,
were folded and twisted,
like the product of aeons of Chinese burns, or age.
Lichen, child of a mixed marriage,
layered and multi-coloured,
sprawled on every surface
as if searching for a landmark. Or to become one,

“Every landscape,” the geologist thought, “is a living thing.”