Living Passages

 Passages for the Living
since The Chase Is O’er – the _attle won   {  b  c    …   r   w  }

. Be still
the presence of the
shall keep you company

Learning Task [#n]
In CG Jung’s published work, find “creative”   –

and then prepare to be discussing and co-writing a new book titled

The Creative Master Bates 

 =====  ring-a-friend …  or/then … ask-the-audience …  andor …  take-two-away ======= 

Learning Task [n+1]  Be discussing ‘What else did “He” rant at apart from the fig-tree ?’
Living Passages Learning-Task [n+2]
Write as many words as we can from the real-life allegoricly-illustrative realistic poem containing
“… Tell them I called, but no-one answered – that I kept my word -“,
Discuss also ‘What ‘flew up’ – why – and propheticly ‘What for ?’


‘What ‘went plunging’, by what/whom
and how could that have been known
‘for our posterity’s record’ ?  

The Listeners

‘Is there anybody there?’ said the Traveller,
   Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champed the grasses
   Of the forest’s ferny floor:
And a bird flew up out of the turret,
   Above the Traveller’s head:
And he smote upon the door again a second time;
 ‘Is there anybody there?’ he said.
But no one descended to the Traveller;
   No head from the leaf-fringed sill
Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,
   Where he stood perplexed and still.
But only a host of phantom listeners
   That dwelt in the lone house then
Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
   To that voice from the world of men:
Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,
   That goes down to the empty hall,
Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
   By the lonely Traveller’s call.
And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
   Their stillness answering his cry,
While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
   ’Neath the starred and leafy sky;
For he suddenly smote on the door, even
   Louder, and lifted his head:—
‘Tell them I came, and no one answered,
   That I kept my word,’ he said.
Never the least stir made the listeners,
   Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
   From the one man left awake:
Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
   And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
   When the plunging hoofs were gone.
Source: The Collected Poems of Walter de la Mare (1979)