Jung's, Man On The Hill Poem by Bryan Sefton

What does the lonely watcher see?
Standing like some forgotten tree
Upon the distant hill
He's forever standing there
Looking away. Looking away
As if his eye, having no limit
Can see around the Earths curve
Distant he stands. Distant he is
The sheep watch him
They point toward the hill
As if a Messiah were giving direction
I feel his eyes are watching me
His eyes are on my thoughts
I feel his searching inside my soul
I feel I am found wanting
Conscience? Could be
My life has not been blameless
He stand dark against the sky
He lifts no hand yet I feel
The pointing finger glare
The accusing stare
You know me, dark stranger
From the marrow to the extremities
You make me promise to try harder
You are there by going nowhere
I am nowhere in my rushing
The train carries me to confusion
The hill takes you to the solution

Is there a hill for me?
Is there a place for me?
Where I can fill the sky?
Where the sky can fill me?
The seat holds me in its palm
Hurls me through the wasted day
Flings me towards the night
Casts me towards oblivion
Everyday I turn away
Everyday I am transfixed
Caught by the man upon the bill
The train moves still
The world turns around
The stranger on the hill

He is the axis
He is unmoving
The rod of iron
On which the world spins
Everything is for nothing
The Guru's 'nothing is'
The scientists handful of atoms
The thought in God's mind
All thinking is circles
I see it, I see it through your eyes
I see the train racing on the spot
The world fighting to escape the whirlpool
I can see it now
There is peace
The peace is at the centre
I let myself go
Drawn towards the middle
Inward I go to the point
Everything stops
All movement ceases
The world is still
I look upon the waiting world
From where I stand upon the hill.