It’s taken me a while to become comfortable with the idea that there is a strand to my poetry which might be called “mystical”. Mysticism is not religion or philosophy (though at times it’s come closer to them than it is now). The way I think of it is as contemplation, another word that’s rather elusive; a reaching into and through consciousness. The white horse has long been a symbol of spiritual light and that’s why I’ve placed this lovely image here. If anyone knows who created it please let me know, as I’d like to credit the artist.
I’ll save any further explanation for another time and let the poems speak for themselves.
