While reading an article on the mythic power of Stonehenge memories of an incident from my youth came calling . A great longing settled on me . A sense of a great loss that filled me with feelings that could not be focused or refined , nor centred on any singular cause . Below are the words that flowed in answer to those ghostly sensations that were resurrected while reading a magazine article in a dentist`s waiting room :
Stonehenge is a real misnomer for me.Too basic and mundane a word coupling for conveying the real ancient meaning of this meeting ground for our ancestors and they deities ; words too bleached of colour and drained of strength to encapsulate any vision of what this arcane temple once represented . Calvary hill , the bodhi tree, ”Stonehenge” all silent victims of our brave new world`s new Parthenon of a million Gods that we genuflect and worship each moment on the alters and keyboards of Technology . Give me a canopy of stars , stones of power thrust into the earth herself , sounds and sights the defy logic`s reason in a world still in awe to the old nature Goddess . Damp earth , bright Moon and stones clad in silver edged shadows are her interface .Stonehenge , today, is a wounded and deserted place , its dead substance tarted up and sold to technology addicted souls . I once , in my youth , stole into its dormant sanctum at midnight . I fell into a deep well of sleep and dreamt of our ancient fathers .Now there , for me , lay true power ; hidden but not unseen , invisible but still felt in the bones of a man . It`s not what we see with our cameras electronic eyes , but what we feel in the pit of our stomach that truly move us .What we see without looking and feel without touch .
I think we have forsaken our human senses in favour of the world of machines and pixel screens .
As here I write an obituary to the old ways , dressed in stones , in this flashing temple of our cyber-world`s medium of disembodied life. Perhaps I miss the power of my youth.Perhaps we miss the dormant , forgotten , energies that gave birth to our imaginations .
I think we have forsaken our human senses in favour of the world of machines and pixel screens .
As here I write an obituary to the old ways , dressed in stones , in this flashing temple of our cyber-world`s medium of disembodied life. Perhaps I miss the power of my youth.Perhaps we miss the dormant , forgotten , energies that gave birth to our imaginations .
