Piper at the Gates.

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The Piper at The Gates.
Sept '85

Text below from
Page 158.
"The Winged Destiny".

"In the middle of a common place action of daily life suddenly I saw a woodland glade
in twilight. A man lay before a fire, but when I looked closer I saw that what I thought
was a fire was a mass of continuously revolving leaves, though no leaf was blown from
the maze, which was like an ever whirling yet never advancing wheel in that forest
silence. He took up a reed-pipe or something of the kind. He played, and I saw the
stars hang on the branches of the trees. He played, and I saw the great boles of the
oaks become like amber filled with moonlight. He played, and then suddenly I realised
that it was a still music, and had its life for me only in the symbol of colour. Flowers
and plants and tree-growths of shape and hue such as I had never seen, and have
never imagined, arose in the glade, which was now luminous as a vast shell behind
which burned torches of honey-coloured flame."
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