The music spilled out in gushes
like the insistent rain that fell
across the patchy grass and
muddy fields of change,
where thousands stood
and laid around naked
in their Garden of Eden,
and filled themselves with drugs
and with the intoxication
of love, flowers and new ways of being,
signalled with gesture
and with heart.
While the rumble
of war and protest
echoed across the land,
and far away bodies were
laid in body bags,
here the bodies felt
the deep and urgent beats of
new beginnings and peace,
pumped out through bass
and guitar and drums,
throughout the awe struck days
and in the mystery of the nights,
as flesh laid nestled
with flesh and souls
burnt bright for just
these few days in
this time, this season, of revolution.
Woodstock.
Convocation of a generation
looking for a new spirit,
for a new age,
when all else,
it seemed to them,
had failed,
except love.
But did they find it?
21/5/2017