Poetry

Resurrection 8

I do not have the time to sing this song

But all the same I’ll do so, tired and busy

I saw the road before me onward going

The children at my side happy and easy

And Nain was there, and Eliot them among.

Now what was really driving me crazy

Was my own ignorance of where we were.

“We’re going to the old centres of power,

“Flint Castle and environs. We are in Wrexham.

We’ll go to the Dyfrdwy estuary

Where river waves meet the coastal sea which breaks them,”

My daughter said, then I: “My lines are free

I can’t afford to rhyme them all today.”

Then she described our route along the coast

To Flint, then Rhuddlan, then to Conwy’s strand

Through all nine castles built by Edward First.

I answered: “Why the castles of that king?”

And she: “Not from some subconscious desire

To recreate Wales like a nationalist

Reconquering, as it were. Rather, they are

The bastions and strong places where virtue

Controls this heaven. We will visit them.”

I stroked her hair, and waved goodbye to Nain

And anyone who in the infinite

Of complex meetings without any time

Had strayed into my entourage so far.

And then I went and spoke to Galya.

An angel is beside her. The one I saw

Was armed with weapons, wearing bright armour

And bearing wings in that traditional way

They are depicted in old coloured windows

This angel had watched over her before.

I heard one all my life when I was sound

But in that paradise they could be seen

And they are heard to speak by virtuous souls

Who think that God became a man in time

And through the Spirit’s energetic acts.

Like one on earth and saw these messengers

And kept on praying despite the apparition

I did not make a fuss of that angel

But said: “I have to go, now, my beloved.”

And she, with her black hair and big black eyes

Burning at me, said: “There is no end to life

So you are safe. See how it comes to you

And joins you to this great created world

And is a part of world that never ends.

Creation needs you. Nothing is without you.

You are the centre, you and I together.

“And here, our guardian angel. How could we

Have lasted or have met without this spirit?

For guides are needed by those who, like us,

Were born to sin. It’s lovely being alive

How magical it is, and it has been,

Like seeing for the first time that man there

As if a spotlight fell just upon him

Among a crowd in some hectic ball room.

I recognise the beauty of my life

Like when I felt you looking at me first

As if I stumbled on a forest clearing

And stood alone surrounded by great trees;

Or like the first time that you saw your child

Who smiled the biggest smile on any face

There ever was, although she could not see,

And ought not to be capable of smiling.

“We used to realise our happiness

In moments of reflection and remembrance

But now immediately and while it happens.

Go and come back,” she said and kissed my lips.

She gave food for the way, preserved as follows:

Take fresh food, and then dry it out completely,

Or freeze it, smoke it, salt or sugar it

Boil it inside a can or in a bottle

Or gently heat it up to seventy degrees

For just a moment, then allow to cool

Inside a sealed container. Microbial life

Breaks up and rots your food, but these microbes

Are killed by salt, or acid, smoke or heat

Or extreme cold. And if you smoke your food

Do it as follows: get some smoking coals

And let the food be suffocated by them.

Get sugar from the beet flushed through with water

The water dries leaving the sugar crystal.

On going forth I met with cosmic justice

It was a straight path toward Flint castle;

And you might think it was improbable

That I should meet John Kennedy and her

Who was assassinated in Russia

By the intelligence men of Ukraine

But they were seeking justice as I was

And as my youthful guides went out with me

These others joined with infinite amounts

Of time and place to meet with men like me.

As unexpected as it was, just like

The unexpected ending of a joke

Surprise and pleasure mixed, when people laugh

Because they are afraid and calm at once

By the illicit nature of a phrase

Which punchlines are, while being merely words.

So, there was JFK, the President

Who said: “I seek a verdict like a man

Thirsty for water in a desert place

But the Lord loveth the righteous, sets aright

The fallen. I was shot by my own people

I think, I who negotiated peace

“With Kurschev over Cuba in my time

And threatened to break up the secret army

Which used the dirty tricks and secret books

Of secret state aggression on the world.

So those usurpers who came after me

Could claim they did good things in public while

They did the wrong in private. In a coup

They shot me in the head to achieve that.”

The road was straight and northward in direction

A few miles on two men were in our way

Facing the way we went. The Beatitudes

That Jesus preached were chanted from a hill.

Like guards upon the road, they did not move.

St Augustine and Bede the Venerable

Bearing the Gospel and an incensor

Just like the Deacons at the Little Entrance

So while we waited for the rites to change

And those saints of the isles to move ahead

I noticed nearby that Daria who died

When she was murdered by the CIA

Or their equivalent from the Ukraine,

A woman who wrote and philosophised

And there, Assange, who was wrongly accused

Of treason. Daria asked: “Have you confessed?

“Have you approached the icons and kissed them?

You have to, to prepare for communion,”

She said, “The rule of law not rule by law

Is what there should have been and will be now.

Where innocence is always presupposed

And men are put on trial as innocents.

When was my trial, when did I get a jury

To examine what I did, and sentence me?

“Such innocence the Church gave to the people

Before the law,” she said. Before I go

Remember this, the fields must be rotated

When you plant things in earth. Rotate the fields.

Let herds graze in the first year with their poo;

The next year plant legumes, peas, beans, lentils,

Which produce nitrogen. Next year plant wheat.

Then burn the fields. Last, carrots and such roots.