As once when I stood on the cliff of years Whose plumbless depths filled my heart The touch of time cold and relentless Though white winter was so far away. Many alabaster dawns have passed by And many pure and splendid dusks too But the cliff and the abyss are still so near Like yesterday’s dreams in the silent night. There is a strange beauty in the past A loveliness in things that are long gone A longing for things never known Like the remembrances of unknown images. I may step out on some golden evening Somewhere in the future of my life My breath filled with twilight magic And my footfall dripping with yearning For the darkness, and the old deep The momentary miracle of the dying day The ancient void, and the stygian black As once when I stood on the cliff of years Whose plumbless depths filled my heart.
An occasional writer but a regular thinker, Beryl sometimes fiddles in speculative fiction. He sees both humour and tragedy in everyday events and is extremely concerned with the fate of other creatures trapped in the monstrous march of 21st-century human civilization.