Brian Taylor is a Poet and Philosopher who lives in Cornwall, England and the Far East.
- Brian Taylor
- tree of Life
Category Archives: Blondin
The shadow of the gnomon* slides at a steady rate. Even if the dial is ancient, the time itself is up to date. Though the train sleeps in the station, the sun just will not wait. And the ever moving … Continue reading
In the Beginning (or perhaps a little later) there was I. And then, because I was lonely, there was me. And we got on like a house on fire! And, so that we could have something in common, there was … Continue reading
To the rose the garden disappears. To the garden the rose withers away. (If you were the gardener, what would you say?) Trace it all back as far as you can from where it is now to where it began. From … Continue reading
“Empty-handed I come and lo! the spade is in my hand.” In the illimitable Void All is destroyed (and Nothing is lost!) Everything appears anew: good seeds flourish (and evil too). They said to the Poet at his birth, “Go! … Continue reading
Every moment is a fork in the road and every fork is always the same, the choice between right and wrong.
Cut into the human wood chop; pare; to find what is already there. Will the knife reveal what we have outgrown? Or does the sculptor feel along the veins and in the bone the shape already in the stone and … Continue reading