Transmutation

Patter, splatter, silver runnel morn.
Rushing, crushing, see my brolly torn.
Scowling growling howling they
Throw away the rose and keep the thorn.

Oh no I can't see.
What have all the children come to be?

Beaming, streaming golden tunnel day.
Batter, shatter, kicking sand away.
Sneering, jeering, fearing I
Occupy my mind in frenzied play.

Oh no, I can't see.
What have all the children come to be?
See them lying, swearing.
Caring still, I see them
Crying, screaming, can't you hear?

Darken, harken, leaden funnel night.
Quiver, shiver, mourning for the light.
Groping, hoping, coping we
Cannot see and parcel out our fright.

Oh no, I can't see.
What have all the children come to be?
See them lying, swearing.
Caring still, I see them
Crying, screaming, can't you hear?

Richard Griggs

I've long been aware of the deep roots of adult violence and fear in the experiences of childhood. It's now well known that child abusers were frequently themselves abused ad children. This needn't be extreme or dramatic; even moderate amount of bullying by others and frightening experiences can result in trauma.

Transmutation uses an alchemical theme, images of light and weather, and mundane situtations to frame this process.

<RZ>