Thursday, October 29, 2020

Sung Eucharist

I actually wrote this next poem, Sung Eucharist, whilst I was convalescing on the Isle of Wight. I'm following the order of a 2004 (now out of print!) collection which I self-published, and this piece follows on from School in its concentration on the numinous, the spiritual, the religious I suppose. I had battled long and hard with my faith over the last few years and there are poems to come in which I denigrate Christianity completely but for now I still held belief in an ordered, rightful world, proclaiming so with these lines...

Never, never, never will I die.
I will dance upon the wings of angels
And sing of all the lives of kings,
And when God Himself hears my praise
He will come to where the common weal lies,
Where heady wonders seek their space, melodious on the ridge,
Where His folk lie with me in the grave, awaiting peaceful calm,
And memorials remind me of the passing of my friends.

We will go. We will walk inside and pew ourselves in prayer,
Bent in supplication at the Intercession,
Hearing now the Holy Ghost's refrain,
Beseeching He who walks up to the pulpit, 'Hear our prayer'.
We lift our eyes, and hearts come too. God delivers His sermon.
Do you hear? The Lord, the Giver of Life, talks to us,
His aura spreading Love, Hope and Faith throughout our souls.
We are as one. He welcomes us home, offering us fare.
There, by the rail, stands another,
A man whose countenance brings tears of joy to us all.
He bids us come, receive His body and His blood,
Shed once for our forgiveness. We go, we take, we eat, we drink,
No longer in remembrance, but in glory of His presence.

The three become as one, urging us back outside.
We follow, join hands (such strength flows between),
And led by Our Lord we ope the graves of those acedians,
Their inertia, banished by His radiance, Whose brilliance, greatness,
Wonder and light fills this acre with peace.
But wait. What of the noise? One from our number rushes aloft,
And there details such jyous note that the tears return once more.
We raise our heads up high, and walk in time beneath the lich,
Two by two, singing great hymns of praise,
Happy now as we journey on through sacred bowers
To a land blessed far and wide, where abstracts cease to live,
Where good is good is good is good, and heaven's eye is sound.
Everlasting clarity, eternal self-belief,
Never stopping, never wavering from the path of right right right.
This is our home, may we who see it while we live write of it when we die,
We who glimpse its splendour tell all the human race.
It is our duty, now, to climb upon the very highest pinnacle of hope,
And proclaim unto the masses, 'God is love, love God' - that is all
Ye know on earth and all you need to know. Teach it. Learn it. Amen.

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