Saturday, March 09, 2019

Two New Poem Drafts


I see the sea turn gold
at the dawning of the light;
I see it fierce and bold
and leaping to the fight.
I see the glory pouring down
for the crowning of the wave
with angelic might,
and I know that we are saved.

Extreme Unction

as with some ancient memory,
but of what is above
as well as what is behind,
the recollection of serenity,
too often lost, yet always there,
descends with soothing scent,
the flesh pants like a hart,
yearning for living water,
loving and yearning to love,
with a kiss of the crucifix;
the heart is sick in the presence of God,
sickness merely a lacking of God,
a distance as upon a cross
that may be raised in sacrifice,
a purifying as if by fire.
Upon the head which knows,
upon the hands which do,
upon the body and its means,
the Spirit is given,
the oil is given,
and like the penitent thief
stealing into paradise,
the soul shares the Passion of God
in the mortality of the body,
and the spirit overflows,
redounding in splendid glory,
that the body be made sign
of its own resurrection.

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