Colder through the dim blue gloom
Thoughts of turning back were strong
Turning back with the tide
Toward the safe sands of the shallows
When suddenly chill was banished,
Bones seized by wonder’s flow:
The golden forest appeared.

Ten foot ropes & straps
Thick, dark, vertical lines of force
A shocking, shadow cast curtain looming over
Festooned with spheres of epiphytic indulgence
Just below the visible surface
But as secret & as alien as you could wish
Monstrous but gorgeous in the evening sunlight.

It was a strangely familiar feeling
As if walking over the fields one evening
One came unexpected to the edge of an unknown wood
& paused at an opening between the trees
To honour the boundary of that other world
Murmuring words of blessing & supplication
Before passing through.

But here no opening gate, stile
Or inviting lane beckoned
Sliding straight in, without pause
Fronds parted & caressed, scraped & rattled against the mask
Sometimes holding onto the snorkel
Revealing shafts of ray light
Or emanating in clouds, a colder presence.

I’m awestruck by the potency
Of this visionary place
As ancient & vibrant as any forest
Wherein you could walk
Simultaneously surreal & totally natural
This ancient, underwater coppice
Sways agelessly, so near & yet so far from the world I know.

Contact lost with the familiar sights of the cove,
Swim further in!
Observed by unseen & unblinking eyes,
Sing words of power into the air tube!
Colder & colder,
Hold your arms tight to your sides & glide
Onward, outward, deeper into the magic of this place!

Large granite boulders
Carelessy dropped here by giants
Lie on the floor, free from the weed
They make light column glades
Where small spotted fish swim in sudden loops
Tiny & transparent for a moment
Then leathery, yellow tendrils curl round me again.

Emerging from the seaweed wood
Was even more sudden & unexpected than entry
Turning to look back one felt
The spirit of the place’s stare in reply
A challenge to return to it’s calm but mysterious lair
As if its submarine limbs would suddenly
Part to reveal some hidden thing.

Some may not have seen such a thing
It is an open secret:
Such beauty & strangeness are everywhere
But familiarity encourages blindness
Let us pray: if the terrible anaesthesia of our time has seized us
Then may new environments creep up upon us,
Wake us up from our trance-story.

The golden weed is a powerful thing
The swaying forest a powerful place
But the moss upon your wall is yet unseen,
The gap between the trees
That have grown so close together
A gate way, leading to a beautiful, terrible land
Beyond whose surface, dare we now swim?

Barry Patterson, September 2006