Checking Out

This year is the fiftieth since the death of C S Lewis. His writing continues to fascinate, inspire and educate; the more I read, the more respect I have for a man who led a sheltered academic life yet managed to reach out to so many, adults and children alike. It seems a great pity to me that his death was overshadowed by other world events at the time.


So quietly you exited:

Slipping through the fingers of the world

as it looked in another direction. Winter encroaching

the Texan bluesky muted by the small black and white television

that chattered incessantly. The air was filled with facts and suppositions

as we learned new words: ‘motorcade’, ‘depository’, ‘knoll’, ‘gunman’.

You knew none of that; instead

Your dreams were filled once more with visions of the stars

Of melting snow, the ice of the ages dissolved into chattering streams.

As we stretched our minds wider to allow for a time where this was possible

you left,

your mind already expanded to allow for talking beasts and dancing trees.

The colour drained from the world’s eye, leaving only

a speck of vivid pink against the grey; whilst you

set out, umbrella in hand, to find

the golden brightness of a lion’s mane.

TAW 1.3.13


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