Skyclad at Redhill...





To Redhill travelled I...
Climbing to the peak - heart hammers,
Heavenly cupola - shrill the birds call,
They feast upon flesh - this day fresh.

Dropping the robe - now skyclad I,
Stretching to Pythagorean splendour,
At 2.30 on the 5th day (I drop the zero) and the breath moves lower,
Rising from abdomen to nostril,
A circle etched - nears completion.

Quinta Essentia - seek I.

Sprigs of rosemary - woven through my locks,
Air scented - shrill the birds call.

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