Author Information
The dreams of Kandinsky
It's a cold dream plucked from the song-lines
a race memory of the wide Eurasian dreamtimes
where winter sunlight gilds birch crowns
into cold wild showers of gold
our dreaming eyes are ever drawn by the far bank
there the great city shines
haughty and proud under a clean cold sky
within the formal gothic forms jostle amongst exotic onion domes
all huddling for warmth behind the high curtain walls
petrified suggestions of warmer seasons
southern dreams
of rustling silks and pungent spices
In the foreground
astride and aside a well appointed Palfrey
a young couple embrace
well dressed
self absorbed
they pass us almost unnoticed as they loom from the shadows
the threatening shades of woodland gloom
I know then that this isn't my dream
for in my dreams all woodlands and horses shine
my cities cast deep shadows without contrast
and have no need of a visual counterpoint
this is an urban dream of an urbane mind
set
perhaps
not in the threatening shade of the northern woods
nor in the songs of a yet complacent people
but in the despairing shadows of the dreamers time
I'd very much like to ask him
and ride once with him through his dreamscape
the dreamer
Kandinsky
