🌞
Here's a sonnet in which I'm channelling the thoughts of sculptor Magdalena Jetelova. It's based on her piece on the Forest of Dean's sculpture trail, a giant's throne on a hillside,
here; the whimsical elements of the sonnet are mine, of course <(:-)
Why do we humans bow to godly rule,
constructing grand designs to please a name,
esteeming faith as brandishing a tool
for planting every view within one frame?
Who knows what giants birthed throughout these hills:
the starbirds waltzing gaily in the trees,
those multicoloured fish of wailing gills,
the chanting herd that walked upon its knees?
If gods are borne in objects made by man,
then each of us may sculpt a making myth,
select our own creator, draw a plan,
enlist the skills of one good hammersmith.
Then fix upon a high commanding space,
and draw vast crowds to marvel at a place.
🍪🍪🍪
Biscuits? Why, thank you, Word-Bird :>)