WARNING!

Reading this blog has made people want to kill themselves, so if you are easily depressed, perhaps you should find something more uplifting to do, like watch a Holocaust documentary or read a Cormac McCarthy novel.

Monday, December 15, 2008

is re-posting the same as re-gifting?

I'm sure this is something I've posted before. But last night at Thinspace we chatted about Luke 2, the inspiration for this poem. It's one of the pieces I'm proud of because it turned out much like it was in my head when I thought of it. I now have a companion piece I'm working on, after our discussion last night. Here's hoping I find time to work on it. In the meantime, enjoy.

ποιμένας

abiding here in shadow-swept darkness
surrounded by the keep of my watch
ever searching the frozen horizon for signs
a glimpse of reflected fire in an unwelcome eye
the subsensular growl upon a midnight clear
i wait as always in the glooming mist
the stars alone my singular companions

the mind it drifts like winter here
thoughts dispersed upon the breeze
condensed to droplets, a veil before my eyes
distorting what little light remains
reflected from the city below me lying
life is lived within its walls
warmth and passion i only know
through frosted window pane
the swirling smoke from a well-loved hearth
like prayers raised to a God of love
and grace and truth and beauty and hope and
i wonder why my little fire
lights and warms only me

and suddenly she happens
shredding the darkness round about
peeling back my night-stained world
to leave her only in the wake
i stand beauty-struck dumb
my heart a feral beast bound
blindly seeking space without
the first Adam’s cage
like my thoughts i scramble backwards
(as i always seem to do)
only to fall down, sore afraid

fear not! she cries in such a voice
compliance tends impossible
her presence enough to send me
clambering to the night for
i fear to taste the love she pours
from fingertips stretched to cool my raging tongue
i fear to touch such suppleness
and lose myself within her open grace
i fear the fragrance of her invading all i am
‘til truth alone remains
i fear to see her severe beauty reminding me
this other Life by life obscured
but most of all i fear to hear the siren-song of hope
crouched hiding ‘neath her tidings of joy

for unto me is born this day in her
salvation long-expected, long-forgotten
wrapped in rags of radiant splendor
and lying in a bed
somewhere in the teeming city
dimmed by glory flinging
hallelujahs in the night
it comes to pass when she is gone
my eyes mere pinpricks growing wide
i rise with haste to seek
peace, good will, hope newborn
lying still there in the dark

and all these things shall i keep kept
to ponder in my desert heart
Æ