Extracts from Issue VI
Only Shadows The Cross of Renaissance
Dare to Dream the DreamPerfection’s bitter fires
Burn my renegade soul,
A remnant hovering
Between lost shadows.
I can see an open door,
A welcome darkness
Disclosing your presence,
A fractured, golden sphere.
This sad fissure signals
How our ruined world
Is so flawed, and how
I experience so acutely
The pain of separation
Or worse, the anguish
Of not knowing you.
Overhead a failing star.
Below, there are only
Shadows.A. C. Evans
Martin Buckley
It baffles the imagination
That mere mortals such as we,
At times can bear one rare among us,
Who envisions spectres of tomorrow’s day;
With his exalt ideas surly dreams allay;
Emblaze the banal with his ideal pure,
To make them here forever stay;
Thus the prosaic from our minds obscure,
Life and thought to splendidly array;That such wise and extraordinary beings,
Can chain their innate inclinations true,
To the collective dream of purely seeing,
And dare to dream of things not yet assumed,
Proclaiming them as viable and due;
Whilst others consider dreams but trite concerns;
Bury them in the shrill silence of existing,
Hurling worthy visions beyond our call,
And towards the precarious mundane us steers;But hear this, O dreamless dreamers
Content that sleeping is enough,
Thus meaning’s purpose to the tock enspear:
As long as there’s a dream to dream,
And men who dare to dream it;
As long as there are those who on Earth appear
To miracles envision,
Shall dreams be carried to the highest region,
And the world to glorious perfection steer!Sophie Soil,
Canada
