Alexander ‘Greek’ Thomson (1817-1875)

Eternally set stages awaiting the divine
their modest usher seeming still alive
to stand at our shoulder
and whisper in our ear
of light, the ancient sacrament.

To him every building a church
house or office becoming temples
consecrated by photons
raining, reigning always from above
as if travelling out of time
he who lost so much to death
his parents, siblings, his own children
entrusted in stone the only remedy
his necessary foundation.

The buildings tell his sermon yetholmwood-1_637292953
to those who’ll listen:
the God he speaks of sings
in many tongues, Etruscan
Greek, Hindu, Egyptian, pagan
effulgent foliage of fabled acanthus
wafting lotus wisdom
in the regal breeze of antiquity
eastern and ancient sophisticate
cosmopolitan magpie eye
aping urbanity.

And yet he duped them all perhapsstvincent_pulpit
albeit pleasurably, for this humble Balfron boy
was really only ever pharaoh over Glasgow
who never sailed the Nile
nor left his own Clyde to see
the ruins of Rome, Athens and Luxor
who built here instead within himself
his own Jerusalem
enshrined the mind a secular and sacred place
adorned its altar with the precious riches
of reason, geometry and order
the endless gold of light.


This entry was posted in Archeology, Art, History, Photography, Poetry, Psychology, Travel. Bookmark the permalink.

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