17.6.12

The Sunday Poem on Heart of Balance


THEMES OF A LOST LIGHT-BRINGER
1
First, there is the forgetting; The un-
folding of the fracturing. Forgett-
ing what love really is; forgetting of
the joy and bliss; forgetting of the precious
pulse. What is this forgetting that
covers all the land? Is it The Snow
Queen come to curse us with Heart’s Ice?
2
Then, there is betrayal, that ebb
and flow of choice. Go this way or go that
way? Follow the green and hairy man:
(A strangely seductive gardener?) Tunnel
or the rockface? Path or winding
stream? That faint sound of ethereal hymns,
murmuring of wind and broken wings?
3
The clotted market with its rising din?
Choices in the moment; choices
that return on wings of vengeance, loss,
and oozing wounds upon the morning’s rise.
A hideous monster has been spawned, upon
your soul’s dugs suckling; drawing you in
to circles new, and other shapes unknown,
4
Dis-membered, dis-connected. Then…
Discovery! Cup breaks, shakes, shivers
and cracks! Re-named. Plucked in a crawling instant!
A new gestalt of lurching gracelessness.
Graceless out of Plato’s piss-washed cave
you lurch, and blink, a reptile on a stage.
Re-membering that thing a shadow makes.
5
You only have one cloak to wear today;
Let it be a cloak of ash, to wrap-
around the newly suffering skin-
tatooed with grief that cannot be revealed.
Begone then! And return when you are healed!
(The good folk cannot stand your endless tears.)
You follow the less-travelled track.
6
Re-member/ Re-gain/ Re-turn! But all the other
fools have gone and it’s too late! Poor,
lost child. So here you are; a single fool,
so brightless and despairing. This
cracked mirror affronts our eyes! We do
not like its shape or size! We think it weaves
a weird disguise. We think it tells us lies!
7
Spinning in that flaring light, the web
that holds us all; a match-strike sparks out in
the night- Forgive! Forgive it all! It is
the way of alchemy, the journey of
the hero. The Soul’s truth and the wisdom
road: Feels like a transformation!
So…fall then on your sword each day.
8
Be carried home upon your shield.
Children’s tears shall wash your wounds
And the harsh Gods will wonder.
The blood will cry out of your caves.
The good folk will wonder:
Some will say, forget, others
say, re-member. ‘Lost
Light-bringer!’ they’ll say: ‘Re-member!’

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