About the green fuse

the green fuse/resources

The name of this site is taken from a poem by Dylan Thomas. It is also the title of a collection of environmental philosophy readings. The name is intended to suggest dynamic organic growth and the idea of combining ideas to create something positive and new.

The site is designed, written and maintained by Adrian Harris, a PhD researcher with a background in environmental work and a strong interest in environmental philosophy. My own thinking on the subject is included in the Eco-spirituality section.

References to work on the site

To cite files available on the WWW, give the author's name, last name first; the full title of the work, in quotation marks, and the date of the document or last revision. Next, list the protocol (e.g., "http") and the full URL, followed by the date of access in parentheses.

Using this system, a reference to The Green Fuse home page would be:

Harris, Adrian. "The Green Fuse for environmental philosophy, deep ecology, social ecology, eco-feminism, earth-centered spirituality".
Last revised: November 2002. http://www.thegreenfuse.org/
(Accessed: day/month/year).

As there isn't complete agreement at the moment on how to cite electronic sources, this example is simply provided as a guideline. See the Internet Public Library for suggestions.

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower
by Dylan Thomas

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower
Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees
Is my destroyer.
And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose
My youth is bent by the same wintry fever.

The force that drives the water through the rocks
Drives my red blood; that dries the mouthing streams
Turns mine to wax.
And I am dumb to mouth unto my veins
How at the mountain spring the same mouth sucks.

The hand that whirls the water in the pool
Stirs the quicksand; that ropes the blowing wind
Hauls my shroud sail.
And I am dumb to tell the hanging man
How of my clay is made the hangman's lime.

The lips of time leech to the fountain head;
Love drips and gathers, but the fallen blood
Shall calm her sores.
And I am dumb to tell a weather's wind
How time has ticked a heaven round the stars.

And I am dumb to tell the lover's tomb
How at my sheet goes the same crooked worm.

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