AMONG MOUNTAINS
N the morning the mountains beckon Blue and clear like bells; glaciers feed upon Light pouring from heaven brighter than ice-stone. When we arrive the blue has folded Away like a back-cloth; we are billowed In brown turf; shingle of ages shows warped Course of water rattling in hidden crevice, And the tough, low-growing scrub brown too; moss Smooths the way, Unaccustomed these little tokens | About our feet strange in Erewhon, and the air singing. But the white o white blaze above and the hot tongue Of ice scouring the valley, This is the blinding Eye, the core to be revéaled crusting upon Dumb earth, feeding the stony rivers illicitly won From drought with the distilled drops of a mountain. Yet what was the truth? Already, on the way home, It is hard to remember. The blade shone, warm With pain and love, to bind all random Thought in one matrix, That much is clear, That is the lasting truth, where in sweet evening air, Mountains withdraw; are cloaked; we are alone again, unsure, ~
Paul
Henderson
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New Zealand Listener, Volume 29, Issue 729, 3 July 1953, Page 14
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178AMONG MOUNTAINS New Zealand Listener, Volume 29, Issue 729, 3 July 1953, Page 14
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Copyright in the work University Entrance by Janet Frame (credited as J.F., 22 March 1946, page 18), is owned by the Janet Frame Literary Trust. The National Library has been granted permission to digitise this article and make it available online as part of this digitised version of the New Zealand Listener. You can search, browse, and print this article for research and personal study only. Permission must be obtained from the Janet Frame Literary Trust for any other use.
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