Farewell England & Hopes for the Wasteland

I haven't written poetry for an awful long time. Perhaps I should. I feel like I should, but maybe the well is dry for now. That's okay. Poetry seems to need to draw from a well of angst, and I'm trying to keep that at bay, drawing on a more rational stoic side to deal with my father's imminent dying.

But I also don't feel as sad leaving England as I have in the past. There seems so much ill here, so much so I wonder if a change in government can rectify how much has been ruined. And the natural England I loved so much doesn't even seem to exist anymore, cept in little pockets - dumping of sewerage, for one, into the waterways, so that 75 percent of it's rivers are unsafe to swim. Last time I wrote this poem that seems like an England eons ago. I still love this poem. I can recall exactly how I felt when I wrote it. I felt like I was leaving part of me behind. It was an intensely private and beautiful moment in the woods, and I composed the poem in my head almost whole before I got back, having to scribble it quickly on paper before I left the house, and fine tuned it on the way to the airport.

On Leaving England

'Don't go far' - they said
For we were leaving within the hour

I walk briskly down past the old mill
Across the bridge and along the stream
My hands dissolve in the running water
I have minutes, an hour - no matter
Skin cells slough away and part of me is left
Here, in the land that birthed my ancestors

I think of the boy Arthur turned fish
Learning the ways of the badger, the hawk
Empathy comes easy when you are that
Becoming the land, I am
He, the fisher king , healer of the land
Now it's the other way 'round
We're all out foraging for antivirals - in sunlight, in greenery
Kneeling in the meadows asking for redemption.

I pick posies of feverfew and wood avens
Dog rose 'twines round elder
Purple fog nestles next to thistles, ox eye daisies
Saplings of birch, blackthorn
I stuff plantain in my pockets
The wild garlic wilts yellow along the way
I pluck seeds and put them in my mouth
They, like the white blackthorn giving way to sloes
Bookend this spring of our discontent.

But here, by the water - how could anyone be anything but at peace?
I lift my hands and sunshine trickles down my elbows
Swooping back to the water, they stop mid flight
A deer stands in the field beyond, and behind that the oak
The blackbirds are stirring the leaves
I follow the tadpoles and fishes downstream
Into all the waterways of England
Look - there is my heart caught on the roots of an ash
my lungs swirling around wet stones
my insides kissed by the branches of willow

I cry all the way home.

'Did you go far?'

'Not far', I say, and pick up my bags.

I've been thinking of the fisher king in my poem a lot. He's a central figure in Arthurian legend - an old and dying king who has a terrible wound which causes his kingdowm to become a barren wasteland as he's immobile and can't do anything to save it. The wound is meant to represent impotence, and the land's desolation and emptinesss mirrors the physical and spiritual illness of the king. He's also inextricably linked Holy Grail, a sacred relic with miraculous healing powers, and his wellbeing depends upon it. Without that, the king can't heal, and the land is doomed.

The legend also usually involves a hero, usually a knight like Sir Galahad, who must go on a quest to find the grail and thus heal the king, demonstrating bravery, purity and other virtues like compassion and empathy. Empathy usually breaks the curse, heals the King, and thus heals the land and restores it's abundance and fertility. The story reflects themes of suffering, redemption and quest for spritual enlightenment. T.S. Eliot's poem "The Waste Land," drew on the motif of the ailing king and the desolate land to explore decay and renewal in a more modern context.

Bear with me whilst I talk about modern England. There's a link between the wellbeing of a ruler and the state of the land. Issues in England can be seen as a symptom of deep societal wounds and divisions that can only be healed with strong and empathetic leadership. Modern England faces its own waste land in the form of economic disparity, political polarization, and social fragmentation as well as the very health of it's rivers and seas and flora and fauna. Just as the Fisher King's wound leads to the decay of his kingdom, political missteps and continued support of one section of society at the expense of the rest has led to the situation England faces today. In the story, the knights as heroes have to demonstrate virtues such as bravery but most importantly empathy - if they show empathy about how much the King is suffering, the curse is broken. This element of empathy is crucial for modern politics as well. Without leaders or heroes that show a genuine understanding and concern for the struggles of the populace, England remains wounded, a wasteland, a desolation.

I think of Jacinta Ardern's particuarly type of politics, one she's still advocating for today - one that employs empathy. It's an inclusive approach that looks at the root casue of issues. More socialist policies focused on policies which reducing economic inequality (damn England and it's class politics), improving the NHS, and ensuring social justice need politicians that require a deep understanding of diverse communities and what they need, not just supporting the rich and their children. Is it too much to ask that leaders stop their bullshit rhetoric and work toward real solutions that heal and unite? England needs a revitalised politcal approach that's about empathy, inclusivity, and genuine engagement with the people. It's not the only country that needs this, of course - but I'm here, and I'm thinking of the Fisher King.

When I tell Jamie about this, he laughs. He doesn't mean to, but like many of us, he's jaded. He's part of the disillusioned populace of the wasteland. 'People like Rishi Sunak don't care about the people. They don't practice empathy at all. It's all about protecting their own and helping them get richer'. He's right, of course. I get it. It still doesn't mean we don't need empathetic leaders though.