Evocation of Oxford

Seeking a world within a realm
Within a globe, made all of glass
Summoned, provoked by sleep
Beauty gazes steadily back
Eyes of knowing, a mouth that would speak
Half-hidden by the fog grey mask
Oh, to see clearly
To smash the glass and hear the snowy
crunch beneath forbidden feet
The only sound in perfect silence
Then light is real, illuminating
The veil changes, shifts and ages
Threadbare but still there
And much remains conceiled.
Sharply pieces filter through
Flinging themselves as piercing ice
And tearing at my eyes
They circle and return
All the time growing larger
And through pain, my vision grows
Not ice, but claws of black
The wise gryphon now returns
To its venerable palace spire
And lovliness sculpted by fingers unimaginable
To dream is to seek
And to know is to see
And to see is to ache
To know