Blake

A simple headstone in the middle of a footpath.

Blake makes me think so as soon as we finished up in class I wanted to go to his grave and think some more, pay a little gratitude to a man who warped my brain for a few hours and brought me closer to my God. He showed me the power of poetry and the ability of art to strike you.

Numberless.

The cemetery was overgrown and we found his headstone easily. It made me sad to think that such a grand person was hidden in a forgotten graveyard in the heart of London. It's passed by thousands of times a day. He didn't get the grandeur. But maybe he likes it that way, alone with the moss and the few who search for him. There was a potted fern and freshly laid flowers on his grave and it made me smile to think that others have had their hearts freshened by his words and left a token to simply say, "thanks."

Thanks.

Bunhill Fields.