Open 11am to 8pm
Royal Festival Hall (Level 5), Southbank Centre, LondonOpen Tuesday - Sunday from 11am to 8pm
Once more I will greet the sun,
the stream that flowed in me,
the clouds which were my long thoughts,
the painful growth of poplars in the garden
which pass through the dry seasons with me,
the flocks of crows
which brought me the smell of the night farms
my mother who lived in the mirror
and was the image of my old age.
Once more I will greet the earth whose burning soul
is filled with the green seeds of my incessant passion.
I will come, I will come, I will come,
with my hair, the continuation of the smells of the undersoil,
with my eyes, as the dense experiences of darkness,
with the bushes I have picked in the wilderness beyond the wall
I will come, I will come, I will come
and the entrance will be filled with love
and at the entrance, once more, I will greet those who love
and the girl who is still standing there
at the threshold full of love.
We meet on streets to prolong the catwalk, to lengthen arrival so it aligns more
commensurately with its anticipation. A street of three blocks or more with enough
pedestrians to heighten awareness and to raise a few false hopes at a glimpse of a
similar coat or swing of hair. Now that you're here, turn at the next corner. Go back
to approach me again.
The faces blur, yes,
but the actions carry through
Moving or not moving
the angle or degree matter little
except the realisation
of the powers
we all wield
for what we do
the act politic
Storms blowing from the sou’west.
In the square the trees bend
and make noise.
Spring tides highest for 300 years