Jack on his Beanstalk
So the time had come to sow my beans, and
to climb the beanstalk for a peep.
I saw my mother’s place on a molehill
and met a perching rook at the top.
Soft mist caressed my lazy horizon.
The rising sunlight washed the world.
The rook called out: A bargain, a bargain!
The price is a trifle, it’s only your time…
All are loved below but the lonesome losers,
and all are awake but the prey of the night.
What fearful, wasteful times! I’ll guide you
and save your life till your dying day…
For wealth, you’ll learn to be tied to possessions,
for safety, to hide from love, and observe
your options from a throne of detachment,
the bird screeched on… But I heard not a word,
for I was absorbed by the sunlight’s promise
that set my swaying senses ablaze –
and with no-one to share my joy, I descended
to take a closer look, alone.
If you have any thoughts on this poem, Thomas Land would be
pleased to hear them.