The world is made of parts, dripping this way and away
A linear of discovery and undiscovered
Unlike the platonic Meno
Tectonic plates fragmented
Idling this way
And as this birth rite is forgotten, designed to be forgot
In bloodied child birth screams
The consistent accident
The easy path is trodden, trodden.
The world’s paradise eternally hidden to temp and tease
Reflected in the lustre of William Blake
Hear the golden arrow
As it cut the air & fills the ear
Before it passes
Jonathan Beale’s work has appeared regularly in DM, Decanto, Penwood Review, The Screech Owl, Poetic Diversity, Voices of Israel in English, MiracleEzine, Voices of Hellenism Literary Journal, The Journal, Ink Sweat & Tears, Down in the Dirt, The English Chicago Review, Mad Swirl, Poetry Cornwall, and Ariadne’s Thread. He was commended in Decanto’s and Café Writers Poetry Competitions 2012. He currently works in mental health in South West London. He studied philosophy at Birkbeck College London. He lives in Surrey England.