Thursday, July 12, 2018

Some Fragmentary Poem Drafts

Burning Bush

Behold this sacred ground
through which the Spirit seeps,
ever new,
ever great,
infinite and deep.

The world is a burning bush,
flaming bright,
logical with light;
its flames leap.
All see them that do not sleep
in the shadow-laden night.


I thought it enough,
living all for you,
love like forever
with nothing to lose;
but now looking back,
an inevitable end,
nothing but sigh
and breath on the wind.


Above the sea of clouds
the moon
in argent glow
its wings extends;
a path it traces
through the wisps;
on far horizon
rests a star.

No Doubt

Ah, you are a righteous man,
a righteous man, no doubt,
who murdered all the Catholics
and threw the Stewarts out;
who stole away the churches
and, with every saint you smashed,
no doubt, no doubt, you did it
to snap the tyrant's lash,
and when your Christian brother
you harassed, harmed, and cursed,
no doubt you did it justly
because they did it first.
No doubt, no doubt they started
every brawling fight
whenever they resisted
your reformation's light.
No doubt when you were burning
the icons of the Lord
they picked their fights against you
with unkind, unchristian word.
You fought, but let's be honest,
they pushed and made you do it
when you broke their sacred altar
and they took their sword and drew it.
When you sent them to the Tower
to huddle like the beast,
no doubt they made you do it
by trying to save their priest.
As you put both maid and child
to terror and to rout,
it was all on their stubborn fury,
all on them, no doubt.


I have writ with ink of stars
a poem shining near and far,
a word to whisper through the night
to crown the sky with grace of light;
but on earth none know how
to read the words I spell
and in hell --
none see the stars.

Instead of starlight, shining screen
gives off a bald, electric sheen;
instead of honor-blazing name,
no one to praise me, nor to blame,
for on earth none know how
to read the words I spell
and in hell --
none see the stars.

Once night was filled with speaking flame,
some to glory, some to shame,
but sky unseen sheds silver light
upon the blind and thankless night,
for on earth none know how
to read the words I spell
and in hell --
none see the stars.

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