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    Arriving in Magic: Poems by Adrian G R Scott
    Arriving in Magic: Poems by Adrian G R Scott
    Arriving in Magic: Poems by Adrian G R Scott
    Ebook82 pages31 minutes

    Arriving in Magic: Poems by Adrian G R Scott

    By Adrian G R Scott

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    About this ebook

    This second collection charts a three-year period in the authors life beginning right after publication of The Call of the Unwritten and into his six-month sabbatical in early 2011 - when he unearthed a new way of looking at his life.
    In Arriving in Magic he describes a refusal to pass the gap that gates the path unnoticed and this opened many Gateways disclosed in poems like When will you be ready and The Edge of Bleakness. The chapter Path Crossings celebrates the people whose presence has given him a magical awareness of life and death.
    The Tuscany section recalls a trip in 2010 with the Poet David Whyte and how this alerted him to the magic of everyday life. Unearthings narrates what the commonplace contains when approached with fierce attention.
    The final section Glad Arrivals reveals the wonder he came to experience, and moves into The Starving Edge challenging the age of austerity; asking more than simply the recreation of a broken system.
    Ending with an invitation to a Certain Kind of Vow this collection is a personal testament adding to what Goethe calls the praise of what is truly alive and what longs to be burned to death.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAuthorHouse UK
    Release dateOct 23, 2013
    ISBN9781491881606
    Arriving in Magic: Poems by Adrian G R Scott
    Author

    Adrian G R Scott

    Adrian G R Scott lives in the Rivelin Valley, Sheffield, UK. He is the author of two collections of poetry and one piece of prose. (www.adriangrscott.com)

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      Book preview

      Arriving in Magic - Adrian G R Scott

      Contents

      Arriving in Magic

      1

      Gateways

      When will you be ready?

      My Face

      Haste

      Lara’s Surgery

      Initiation

      Step One—I Am Mad

      The Edge of Bleakness

      Ladybower

      2

      Path Crossings

      I Am Me And You Are You

      Visiting Shawbost

      Evacuee

      Uncle

      For Tess

      3

      Tuscany

      Married Again

      Falling

      Mendicant

      4

      Unearthings

      The Pond

      Accompaniment

      Annunciation (digitally)

      Visits to Laugharne at

      Fifteen and Fifty

      A Bigger Picture

      Christ Before the High Priest

      Death Lodge

      The Girdled Tree of Eyam

      5

      Glad Arrivals

      Blossom

      Silence

      The Circle

      There is a Stage

      This is All the Life You Have

      The Starving Edge

      6

      Walking On

      There is a Certain Kind Of Vow

      Now, arriving in magic, flying,

      and finally, insane for the light,

      you are the butterfly and you are gone.

      And so long as you haven’t experienced this: to die and so to grow,

      you are only a troubled guest on the dark earth.

      The Holy Longing by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

      For my children

      Eva Katharine             27th April 1991

      Lara Francis Hope          23rd October 1992

      Thomas Donald Gabriel      17th November 1995

      Arriving in Magic

      Why do I always turn to the stone

      to try again for a king’s sword

      when wizards wait out in the wood

      set to make of me a master?

      Again and again I am snatched

      by flattery to step up and lead,

      be on the team, sit on the board,

      ignore the space that incubates.

      No more can I pass the gap that gates

      the path unnoticed, stepping through

      towards mossy trees and fish’s glimmer,

      novice to the green flame in the bud.

      This magic is the fierce embrace

      of all that makes up our life’s course,

      uttered bold in faith to the deep

      unsleeping witness of the dark.

      That unyielding and steady gaze lays

      bare the me I really am and

      not the me I would have you see.

      Finding the dragon’s shadow dancing

      vast on my small room’s wall and see

      how often I’ve pinned its tail on you,

      and as his scales form bright on my skin

      I inhale richly his secret fire.

      An old skin sheds no longer needed,

      a way of good belonging now

      outdated, letting go its grip I

      find my orbit round a greater force.

      No more am I a hub for hubris

      to build its castle on, no longer

      a beggar for attention but an

      owl-eyed hunter for the untamed space.

      The ring you place upon my finger

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