Critique Of Judgement
And suddenly the view looks as though
by Andrew McNeillie
An artist had been busy with her pastels,
Blunting the mountains and the hills
With mist of cloud and blue-green shadow:
Things for which god knows I'm a soft touch
No matter I can see through the gauze
To Nature red in teeth and claws
And hardship far beyond her crayon's reach.
This is what I call visionary appearance
To save me from the worst when I most need it
As when at any hour of day or night
I wake before pure reason's incoherence.