Auguries of Innocence: the Connected and Consequential Cosmos

Reconciliation ecologist Pete Yeo took inspiration from Blake’s Auguries of Innocence in a new-found understanding of the natural world through chaos theory and fractals. Here, he shares his appreciation of Blake’s words and their popularity for how they speak directly to the heart of the matter.


To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour

Why is it that these opening lines of William Blake’s Auguries of Innocence have become so well-known? Might the answer draw out a dichotomy in our modern relationship with the cosmos, yet still augur well for our necessary reconciliation with the web of life?

I cannot now recall when I first encountered these lines yet I suspect it was in the early nineties, around the time of my introduction to chaos theory and fractal geometry following a travelling scholarship to the USA. Whilst I may have begun with an intellectual interpretation of his poem’s beautiful opening invitation, his words would have resonated with my felt experience of the connective patterning of the world around me. I’m sure I’m not alone in having seen the macrocosm in the microcosm, and vice versa. Blake’s words are popular, I suggest, because they speak directly to the heart of matter.

auguries of innocence - repeating patterns in nature
A familiar fractal metapattern: what social scientist Gregory Bateson called ‘the Pattern that Connects’.
Photograph: Pete Yeo

Recalling that trip to the USA, and a mind alive with new-found understanding and meaning, I began to see further into the depth of the world as I toured nature preserves around the southeastern states. And not just with my mind; an artist’s feeling sense was being nurtured too. Atop a landmark granite outcrop in Georgia, I took a photograph that was soon to have great significance for me. The subject was simple enough, a crescent of lichen and moss initiating the process of plant colonisation around a small solution pool of less than half a metre square. With time, as weathering and root action proceeded, they would be joined by grasses, perhaps a shrub or two, even a pine sapling. In awe of the power of the vegetal realm, there I left it.

Vegetal beginnings; the solution pool atop Heggie’s Rock, Georgia.
Photograph: Pete Yeo

A golden thread 

On my return to the UK I began to satisfy my craving for more knowledge of chaos theory, the self-similar scaling of fractals and, inevitably, quantum physics. Within a better grasp of Life, how might I use this information in my work with plants? It wasn’t long before serendipity offered its help. The latest issue of a magazine subscription included a supplement on Australia, within which was a photograph that rather took my breath away. It was an aerial shot of a beautiful bay fringed by mangrove forest, this forest exhibiting the same light/dark green banding as the lichen (light) and moss (dark) in Georgia. The similarities can, of course, be explained rationally, and yet, for me, it was a heart-felt sign; here was a golden thread to follow.

The serendipitous, scaled-up vegetal crescent on the coast of Australia.
Photograph: Unknown

Plants have long ignited my imagination, and they had taken me to the States. These days I have a growing appreciation of the extent to which they have supported me throughout my life as I have searched for meaning in various ways and places. They have been both generic and specific totems. It is with deep gratitude that I now work with them as nature connection portals for others, supported by the latest discoveries in plant behaviour, intelligence and connectivity. My interest in physics has continued alongside, especially in recent years with the fascinating insights arising from the field of unified physics (readily accessible via the Resonance Science Foundation, for instance).

Auguries of innocence: a unified field

This new physics is radically evolving our modern worldview, evidencing the ancient spiritual mantra, known to Blake we might imagine, that “All is One”. The mind is now explaining what hearts have long felt; rather than having separatist dominion over a ‘clockwork universe’ of parts, we are an expression of a living cosmos that is far more than the sum of its interdependent parts. The ‘Ocean of Being’ is now described as an immersive, unified field of energy from which all physical matter is spun into patterned existence across an infinite scale. As plant cognition scientist Monica Gagliano puts it, “we are not in nature, we don’t go to nature. We are nature. We literally spring out of the planet.”

auguries of innocence - the cosmic matrix
The cosmic matrix, the “flower of life”, each circle actually an overlapping sphere in 3D.
Photograph: Pete Yeo

This unified field expresses the sacred geometry known to the ancients, its foundational structure represented by the ‘flower of life’ symbol, and its fundamental energy flow pattern by the yin yang symbol. Inherent to the latter is a reflexive learning and evolving mechanism known as ‘feedback/feedforward’. This is reflected, for example, in the Earth’s electromagnetic field or a halved apple. Simply use opposing fingers to trace a pattern exiting one pole, passing along either side, re-entering at the other pole, and reuniting via the core. In other words, what is given out to the world is received back, things work or they don’t. Just as Blake’s poem goes on to suggest, our actions have consequences for us in time, and we can learn and evolve accordingly.

William Blake’s Newton (1795): colour print with pen & ink and watercolour.
Image: The William Blake Archive

And so, we come full circle. Whilst Blake took issue with the emergence of Science, most notably with his painting Newton, this adventure in reductive reasoning – the so-called Enlightenment that became what countercultural intellectual Charles Eisenstein calls the ‘Story of Separation’ – was perhaps a necessary detour for humanity. Putting a positive spin on the matter, the inherent and multivalent learning therein has likely moved us forward as a species, delivered us to a more informed space. I would like to think that my personal journey into disconnection has had a similar outcome in microcosm. It could be said that we have come full spiral; indeed, in 3D the yin yang’s energy flow pattern is in fact spiralling (for a visualisation, see the link in the notes below).

Better connection

As heart and mind, feeling and intellect reconvene in our crisis-ridden time there would appear to be cause for hope. Yet, however resonant our intellect, that is no guarantee of better decision-making. Consider the decades of appeals to society with respect to climate change. The world around us and its events need to be acutely felt for effective action to be taken – what has been called compassionate empathy – just as you might act on chronic pain within your own body. The revolution is love, as they say, and we care for what we love.

Thankfully our heart connection is always there for us; to modify an old adage, you can try to take the child from the cosmos yet you can’t take the cosmos from the child. The new physics is telling us that at the centre of every 3D yin yang, at whatever scale we choose – from proton to galaxy, we will find singularity and the intimate portal of connection with the unified field of the cosmos, or ‘Source’. Far more than a pump, the human heart, generator of the body’s largest electromagnetic field, is in every sense our centre of felt connection.

Auguries of innocence - the seed of truth
Whatever the scale, there is a seed of truth at the heart of matter.
Photograph: Pete Yeo

It is no coincidence that just when we most need to reconcile ourselves with our planetary home there is now a popular surge in nature connection activities, like forest school (for all ages) or foraging, alongside ecological campaigning. A beneficial aspect of today’s media is that they are helping us feel the collective trauma. The restorative power of our heartfelt connection, evidenced also in the rise of forest bathing and nature prescriptions, can even ‘resuscitate’ those numb to the world around them, to quote nature connection practitioner Danny Shmulevitch. It could be as simple as bathing in a starry night. The joy of the world is as much ours as its pain; as the yin yang symbol shows, they are intimately entwined.

Man was made for Joy & Woe
And when this we rightly know
Thro the World we safely go
Joy & Woe are woven fine
A Clothing for the soul divine
Under every grief & pine
Runs a joy with silken twine

These later lines from Auguries of Innocence further evidence Blake’s channelling of some mighty wisdom, describing the seed of truth at the heart of matter – our consequential connection to cosmos. What, I wonder, might have happened if Isaac Newton had interpreted his falling apple another way, coming to know that he had held infinity in the palm of his hand and eternity in that hour? Blake may smile wryly at the question, yet in fairness to Newton, I’ll close with a line from another popular text, the Desiderata by Max Ehrmann.

No doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.


Notes

In his previous Finding Blake post, An Evergreen and Pleasant Land?, Pete finds inspiration in William Blake’s poem that later became the hymn Jerusalem when contemplating the impacts of our changing climate on Britain’s evergreen plantlife.

For more from Pete, see his website, Future Flora, and his similarly-named Facebook page for weekly musings. Lately, he’s felt a call to write more expansively on the need for a more holistic and reverential relationship with the plant realm (and hence all Life). At times the muse has felt rather Blakean.

You can read Auguries of Innocence and more of Blake’s poems at Poetry Foundation. In a September 2020 article on Blake’s four-fold imagination, Mark Vernon discusses Blake’s view of the limitations of the ‘singular’ vision of science as exemplified by Isaac Newton and illustrated in Blake’s painting.

Wikipedia, as ever, has useful introductions to chaos theory and fractal geometry, and there is more at the Resonance Science Foundation, a global research and education non-profit organization working for the unification of physics and science as a whole.

You can hear plant cognition scientist Monica Gagliano, as quoted by Pete, discuss plant sentience in this 2020 podcast from Camden Art Audio. For more on the ‘flower of life’ and yin yang symbols Pete discusses — and illustrates in his image, the cosmic matrix — again Wikipedia provides good overviews. Pete has provided this link to a more 3D illustration of the spiralling nature of the yin yang energy flow, as mentioned in his text.

Pete mentions the thinking of Charles Eisenstein on the ‘Story of Separation’, and you can watch a short video of Charles talking about the root of this separation on his website.

For more on the restorative power of connection with nature, see these pieces on forest bathing and nature prescriptions and the work of Danny Shmulevitch.

Finally, the full text of Max Ehrmann’s Desiderata is available here.

An Evergreen and Pleasant Land?

Reconciliation ecologist Pete Yeo has long seen heavens in wildflowers, these days working with plants as portals for human-nature connection. In this post, he finds inspiration in William Blake’s poem that later became the hymn Jerusalem when contemplating the impacts of our changing climate on Britain’s evergreen plantlife.


This essay was first published in February 2021 by the University of York’s Leverhulme Centre for Anthropocene Biodiversity, and Pete Yeo adds for Finding Blake:

Having been a long-time but distant admirer of Blake, the muse offered “And did those feet in ancient time…” up as inspiration for An Evergreen and Pleasant Land? I didn’t appreciate at first how appropriate it was, though shouldn’t have been surprised. That choice has certainly helped disseminate the essay and its message, of how we might better flow with, rather than against, wider nature, through reference to the climate-induced rise of evergreen vegetation in a traditionally deciduous Britain.

Such ideas exemplify the connected worldview that I have been exploring for decades now, through spirituality and, more recently, the latest insights from the field of unified physics, for example. Both say the same thing — All is One. Which is why I’ve always loved the opening lines of Blake’s Auguries of Innocence.

To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower

Though I can’t be sure what he truly meant, for me they beautifully convey the cosmic unity of infinitely scaled energy patterns; a sacred geometry also witnessed in a spiralling galaxy, a hurricane, and the stirred cream in a coffee. Another essay may beckon from the Ocean of Being.

An Evergreen and Pleasant Land?

Laurel - an evergreen species doing well in Britain
Japanese laurel is one of a number of Asian broad-leaved evergreens now naturalising in warmer locations across southern Britain

Whilst Blake’s ‘green and pleasant land’ clearly featured ‘pastures’, then as now England’s natural, spontaneous vegetation tends towards verdant yet deciduous forest.

This has not always been the case; not so long ago in the geological past the climate was too frigid for most plants, whilst further back in time it has been decidedly subtropical. These warmer epochs witnessed the prominence of evergreen woody species, such as those constituting so-called laurel forest. Climate change is now inviting such vegetation back with profound consequences for our relationship with the land and its always evolving ecosystems.

Laurel forest is characteristic of those lands that have a subtropical climate, both warm (not hot) and wet, often forming the ecological transition between tropical and temperate vegetation (though also found at higher and cooler elevations in the tropics). Alternatively known as laurisilva it is dominated by broad-leaved woody evergreens, their glossy leaves reminiscent of the true laurels (Lauraceae, a family of ancient lineage), many of whom are present. Certain warmth-loving needle-leaved evergreen conifers also feature.

And did those seeds in ancient time,
Fall upon England’s mountains evergreen…

In his book, Inheritors of the Earth (2017), evolutionary biologist Chris Thomas draws attention to the Pliocene epoch (5.3-2.6 million years ago). Then, global climate was 2-3 degrees Celsius warmer, and thus moister, than today, and this is the likely climate territory we will reach by the end of this century. In the Pliocene laurel forest was far more prominent in Europe than it is today. Whilst most scholars doubt Jesus ever set foot in England (the question in Blake’s poem), and the fossil record is patchy in regards to past flora, at least some laurel forest representatives will have been present here at that time. Wind the geological clock back towards the even warmer Eocene (56-34 mya) and there is clear proof for this part of the Earth.

Of course, nothing lasts forever. These biodiverse European forests became impoverished by the succession of Pleistocene ice ages (2.6m-11,700ya) which removed most of the cold-sensitive trees, including a majority of the broad-leaved evergreens. Due to the obstructive alignment of European mountain ranges their chances of ever returning from their southern refugia, such as the Iberian Peninsula, were greatly reduced compared to, say, the eastern parts of Asia and North America. And yet some were able to head north again after the ice ages, though these were descendants that had learnt to cope with cooler, drier conditions. English natives holly and ivy are both examples (to which we can add the conifer yew), whilst other laurel forest relicts such as cherry laurel, holm oak and rhododendron were able to make it to the British Isles during one or other of the warmer interglacial periods (a reality that strangely has no bearing on nativeness).

That last trio are once again reappearing (the rhododendron often as a new hybrid), a Second Coming of sorts — or perhaps third, or fourth — not welcomed by everyone (think: ‘alien invasives’). They are being joined by a significant number of far-flung broad-leaved evergreens, especially from Asia, many of whom are close relatives of pre-ice age species. Indeed, I recently observed my first wild camellia seedling, relatives of which are known to have been present in England back in the Eocene. What’s even more telling is that it’s not just woody representatives of laurel forest that are now thriving; Caucasian giant hogweed, Chilean giant rhubarb and Japanese knotweed all hail from laurisilva zones. The Botanical Society of Britain & Ireland’s wild distribution maps illustrate the extent of naturalisation of such species, some being more advanced than others. The heat island that is London along with the warmer parts of England, Ireland and Wales tend to witness the first arisings.

Evergreen species such as bay laurel are becoming increasingly common in the wild in Britain.
A new and ancient flavour to our landscape; bay laurel (the culinary herb) is becoming increasingly common in the wild across southern Britain.

I’ve been closely following one particular broad-leaved evergreen species for many years — bay laurel, the familiar culinary herb. This Mediterranean laurel forest relict, and a true laurel at that, has been cultivated in sheltered localities around Britain for centuries, yet was only observed wild from 1924. That lag is far beyond any expected for a climate-compatible species and strongly suggests a warming factor, with bay laurel now becoming commonplace outside of gardens around southwestern England in particular, where I live. I offer a small, local peri-urban roundabout as example; the native species planting of 30 years surrounding it now features an emergent laurel-like understory with over 120 evergreen saplings. Of these, bay laurel is co-dominant alongside holm oak, with some native holly and a small amount of laurustinus (also from the Mediterranean). Bay laurel is clearly enjoying the warming climate, along with, I suspect, our wetter western seaboard which already supports a variant of temperate rainforest. In turn, birds are obviously relishing this new local forage, its black fruits like mini-avocados (to which it is related).

As Chris Thomas puts it, ‘the rediversification of European forests is underway.’ Admittedly, this is not simply due to our warming climate and reducing frosts that now allow seed-set and dispersal. The process has been facilitated by our global society, our love of trade and, especially, horticulture. This ecological mixing was likely inevitable at some point due to larger Earth cycles yet it all represents a great acceleration of evolutionary processes, and brings novel tensions. We are where we are, however. Whilst throw-back winters may occasionally slow evergreen progress, sufficient warming is already locked-in, however good our efforts at emission mitigation. This invites us to adapt and welcome laurel forest species, and to reconcile ecological and cultural tensions as far as possible, without need for Blake’s ‘chariot of fire’.

Holm oak - an invasive evergreen species?
Holm (holly) oak is already extensively naturalised across southern Britain, as here along the Norfolk coast, and regarded as an invasive species by some.

For this floral shift has consequences; there will be losses, and there will be gains. For example, broad-leaved evergreen trees and shrubs can create a dense, year-round shade to the detriment of herbaceous flora, such as Britain’s popular woodland wildflowers. Native holly is no different in this regard. However, we have a relatively small native flora, especially in regard to woody plants, and laurel-like species will enrich our beech- and oak-dominated woods. Increased biodiversity equates to more options and greater resilience as our ecosystems – our life-support systems – face an uncertain future. So, on the one hand a heartfelt aesthetic loss, on the other an overall ecological gain, though future generations may be less invested in the loss as a result of shifting baselines.

Laurel forests don’t represent an ecological downgrade; instead they can be seen as a future-fit ecosystem upgrade. Consider that warmer and wetter conditions tend to benefit fungi, including the pathogenic kind. It’s probably no coincidence that cherry laurel and rhododendron are both known to be resistant to such threats. The leaf litter of introduced bay laurel has also been shown to often support subtropical, even tropical, fungi, which leads me to wonder about the role of such evergreens in supporting climate-compatible fungi (or vice versa). For the appropriate fungi, whatever their specific ecological role, are critical to ecosystem functioning. This exemplifies the challenges facing ecological relationships with the northward migration of species.

Given the ecological resilience offered by broad-leaved evergreens there may be the temptation to be proactive and accelerate their presence across our landscape, though caution might recommend simply allowing spontaneous naturalisation (a similar tension being apparent within the rewilding movement in regard to native species, of planting versus spontaneous growth). The forestry sector is already thinking ahead, trialing eucalyptus and holm oak, as well as thermophilous needle-leaved evergreens like Atlas cedar, Japanese cedar and coast redwood. And as our agricultural sector evolves, toward regenerative practices in particular, we may see the rise of our own versions of traditional Iberian agroforestry systems, featuring evergreen tree crops like cork and encina (a variety of holm) oaks.

Both sectors could increase evergreen naturalisation, but neither to the extent of horticulture. The RHS report Gardening in a Changing Climate (2017) offers a glimpse of the relevant changes we might expect in this sphere. It suggests that camellia, escallonia and other broad-leaved evergreens could become the dominant hedge and boundary plants in the West Country by 2100. Warmer still yet drier East Anglian gardens could (in 2100) feature many of the laurel forest relict species that survived around the Mediterranean, such as myrtle and strawberry tree. Both scenarios would nurture an increasingly evergreen landscape, and likely be augmented by other subtropical evergreens such as palms.

Silverberries - another evergreen starting to naturalise in our changing cliate
Silverberries (Elaeagnus) are now beginning to naturalise as a result of better fruit set. The author observed his first sapling (of a garden hybrid) in 2019, in Devon.

One way or another our landscape is going to change over the next few generations, perhaps dramatically. My vision is that the necessary responses come as consensual evolution rather than the apparent revolution in Blake’s poem. Key to this will be the ability to see beyond the losses relating to all meanings of this ‘green and pleasant land’, toward the laurel-like silver linings set to ‘shine forth upon our clouded hills’. That way, we help liberate the future from the past, ‘dark satanic mills’ and all.

Whilst it’s been fun to riff with William Blake’s poem, it highlights the importance of responsibility and choice. Our actions, and the perceptions that inspire them, will decide whether we meet a pleasant land in the future. As we undertake a necessarily sacred renewal of our relationships within the dynamism that is Life, a bigger canvas eagerly awaits the more reverential flourishes of our human artistry.


Notes

For more from Pete, see his website, Future Flora, and his similarly-named Facebook page has been the platform for weekly musings. Lately, he’s felt a call to write more expansively on the need for a more holistic and reverential relationship with the plant realm (and hence all Life). At times the muse has felt rather Blakean.

Laurel forest, also called laurisilva, is a type of subtropical forest found in areas with high humidity and relatively stable, mild temperatures. The forest is characterized by broadleaf tree species with evergreen, glossy and elongated leaves, known as ‘laurophyll’ or ‘lauroid’.

For further information on the ancestry of British woodlands, see Roots and Branches — while the Botanical Society of Britain & Ireland’s wild distribution maps illustrate the extent of naturalisation of so-called invasive species.

A shifting baseline is a type of change to how a system is measured, usually against previous reference points (baselines), which themselves may represent significant changes from an even earlier state of the system. The concept is relevant to all aspects of change and the failure to notice change in the world today.

The Royal Horticultural Society’s report Gardening in a Changing Climate (2017) describes some of the impacts our changing climate is expected to have on Britain’s gardens. 

In ‘Jerusalem’ – a Song, an Idea, Few Can Resist, Finding Blake’s founder James Murray-White reflects on the enduring, but shifting, resonance of Blake’s famous lines on Jerusalem for visions of ‘England’s green and pleasant land.’ And in Jerusalem in South Molton Street, we filmed actor Matt Ray Brown reading Blake’s poem in Blake’s house in South Molton Street. Do also check out Another Jerusalem, where artist, musician, illustrator, songwriter and poet Salli Hipkiss introduces her poem, Another Jerusalem.

Reflections on A Poison Tree

Poet Clare Crossman was one of our first contributing authors at Finding Blake, and we welcome Clare back with her reflections on A Poison Tree, a key poem in William Blake’s work, published in Songs of Experience in 1794.


I re-read A Poison Tree again recently because I run the south Cambridgeshire Poetry society, Stanza, and was looking for poems about Truth, which is the theme of this year’s national poetry day.

Adrian Mitchell, a great lover of Blake, was a necessary poet in the mix. The lyrics of his song The Truth were just what I needed and then there was Emily Dickinson, Don Patterson, WH Auden, and all the other poets on the National Poetry Day site.

I was reminded of A Poison Tree by one of the members during our discussion. The more we looked at poems the more it seemed that there was a very thin line between truth and lies, as we felt the truth can sometimes be unbearable. A Poison Tree was discussed because it was the one poem we all knew in which the effects of not saying how you feel or addressing anger can cause self-destructive anger and, as in the poem, death — or murder as some have suggested.

Directness and honesty is a tone that can be relied on in Blake. It is interesting to note that the original title of the poem was Christian Forbearance, an irony of course from Blake: a criticism of the buttoned-up and the easy Good. He disliked hypocrisy. 

The poison of soft, deceitful wiles

Blake stares into the face of what anger does to us by setting his thoughts in a simple balance.

I was angry with my friend;
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not my wrath did grow.

There is difficulty in speaking to the enemy and so, full of resentment, he nurtures the Poison Tree inside him (I imagine capillaries through which a cancer is spreading):

And I watered it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears:
And I sunned it with smiles
And with soft deceitful wiles.

Blake notes that how he responds to the enemy is to pretend to be pleasant: ‘soft deceitful wiles’. He smiles through his anger. As Shakespeare wrote, “A man may smile and smile and be a villain”.

Hand-painted copy B of William Blake’s “A Poison Tree”, 1794 currently held at the British Museum.

In the third verse there is an elegant reversal, the apple in the Garden of Eden becomes a glittering object as if it has been touched by King Midas, not a beautiful piece of fruit:

And it grew both day and night
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine
And he knew that it was mine.

This apple does not belong in the Garden of Love, it has been created by things left unspoken and has become a symbol of deception and anger (‘My precious, my precious’). This apple does not cause the fall of man by being picked and eaten; it causes death destruction and an eerie acknowledgement of the way evil can fascinate and entangle.

Then there is the last verse.

And into my garden stole,
When the night had veiled the pole:
In the morning glad I see;
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

I don’t agree with literal interpretations of the last verse. I think it is too deliberately ambiguous, and my feeling is that it means more that the evil has somehow spread and been recognised by both the foe and the speaker in the poem. In the dark ‘night had veiled the pole’ both people in the poem have become part of the destructive anger.

A destructive anger

I wonder what started this poem off? We have all had relationships that end in anger and silence, with both people involved feeling damaged. The singer-songwriter Beth Orton has written a wonderful melancholic setting for this poem which can be found on one of her finest albums, Sugaring Season.

But the poem I think is about real hatred and real dislike, where those involve dissemble and pretend to be opposite to who they are while harbouring a deep, destructive anger… The scenes in the last series of Peaky Blinders, showing Oswald Mosley at full throttle come to mind. In that instance, hatred of the other is masquerading as good sense and decency — which is in his case fascism.

Blake seems to be saying that however difficult we find it we must stand up to our real foes, and express our angers because if we don’t the consequences are terrible. Courage and forgiveness are also required, which can be found for a friend — but someone you really don’t like? That’s another matter. It is easier with a friend but maybe not impossible with a foe.

Good advice from 225 years ago. Oh, William Blake you were wise. You looked directly at hatred and what it does.

As Adrian Mitchell  (a great admirer of Blake) wrote 150 years later:

The truth is the truth it’s a strange kind of animal, so I stay awake listening for the truth.


Notes

Adrian Mitchell’s The Truth is published in Come on Everybody – Poems 1953-2008, published by Bloodaxe Books. And you can read The Guardian’s obituary for Mitchell, “in whom the legacies of Blake and Brecht coalesce with the zip of Little Richard and the swing of Chuck Berry…” who wrote Tyger for the National Theatre in 1971, “a time-travelling musical about a visionary 18th-century poet in today’s fallen times, with music by long-term collaborator Mike Westbrook.”

You can hear Beth Orton’s song, Poison Tree, on YouTube – and of course Finding Blake guest contributors Astralingua and Mick and Kate Stannard have also shared their own adaptations of Blake’s poem with us.

Clare has previously shared her reflections on Blake’s poem London with us here Finding Blake. And you can find her own poems at Clare Crossman – Poet & Writer as well as on ClimateCultures and the website for her project with James Murray-White: Waterlight — A Journey Along the River Mel.

You can explore more of Blake’s poems from Songs of Innocence and of Experience, with summaries, analysis and images of the original illustrations, at The Tate’s pages.