Compass Rose, by Suzana Wylie

Flashie Friday/Saturday/Sunday contribution, by me.


Autumn Stone Bridge

old stone bridge, Scotland, autumn


The compass rose points up and down
Along the river’s banks,
A border gurgling ‘mine’ and ‘thine’
Dividing into ranks
The whole of everything and all,
Joined here by hope’s stone arch
A treaty-truce, a gathering,
Where friend, not foe, may march.
And yet, unseen by common eye,
The compass rose does turn,
The selfsame arch becomes the mark
Where ‘dream’ and ‘real’ both yearn
To mate and part and mate again
As once in times of old
The dreaming walked in broad daylight
And real, the stories told.
A door between two worlds, perhaps,
A tenuous join at best.
A way across for entering in
May open on request.

About suzanawylie

Suzana Wylie is the not-very-pseudo pseudonym of Susan Wylie Wilson, because let's face it, there are lots of Susan Wilsons around, and as an author, I want readers to find ME and not the bazillions of others. I've been writing all my life - since I learned to hold a pencil anyway - and can't NOT write. Other people have to breathe to live; I have to write.
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2 Responses to Compass Rose, by Suzana Wylie

  1. erinsromance says:

    Susan, I have said somewhere else how the trope of a compass “rose” fits this image remarkably well. The idea of divisions, of friend versus foe, past and future, vanish in the metaphor of wholeness. Yes, the compass envelops all, and the bridge between dream and reality join in your writing. Well thought out, beautifully stated, as always.

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