Poetry

Resurrection 14

The dawn light breaks and rises over the beach

Forever bright in my recollection;

Inside my mind I see the sandy beach

The natural rocks, the bottomless ocean.

Children and dads and mums were on the beach

They were relaxed and happy at Prestatyn,

By the beloved sea. When it got late

We ate some food and walked on the parade;

At night the seagulls cried and jellyfish

And crabs in rock pools woke me from my sleep.

As we went on to Conwy in a rush

The sea coast made me think of growing up:

Terrific peace, ascetical, childish;

Just like a child I felt making that trip

There in the afterlife, our Father watching us

Terrific peace and soulful ascesis.

I must proceed to tell you what I saw

In that fort on Conwy peninsula.

There was a great king sitting inside there

Clad in the virtues a great man should wear

He shone with uncreated light for sure

Lord of the A55, and the builder

Of all these castles and a great deal more,

He was at Conwy in the great hall there.

That light was blinding for a little child

My daughter could not see. But I could see

Because for many years I had been schooled

By such a fire which teaches you virtue

For in this single thing I have been skilled:

To look into the fire and energy

Of contemplation. I gave her may hand

Until the blindness went and sight returned.

Do you believe I saw this other world

And then came back? Have I truly come back

Was there a king? Did I that heaven behold?

I’m like the village fool, that’s what I’m like,

To tell the tale, no matter how its told.

My wisdom is all useless pointless work.

I am a common man, a humble man;

I claim to tell things I alone have seen.

While owning only things made by my own hands,

Not like some elite person of our time

Who is employed at everyone’s expense,

Entitled, networking, part of a team

Of social climbers, you know them, the ones

You see them in high office doing harm.

But me, I do deny myself the right

To be like them. I have followed the light.

“We walk alone, and never had a start,

We are strong enough to see,” I told the girl.

We weren’t alone, somebody stood apart,

And talked to us there, in that castle hall:

“This castle teaches, it corrects the heart.

It teaches temperance or how to rule.

But all the virtues are a gift of grace;

They come from meditation and practice.”

“You are the Duke of Wellington,” I said

“Our most conservative, our greatest man;

Prime minister, and foremost patriot.”

“That’s true,” he said. “Now tell me, if you can,

“Where did you learn to bear the sacred light?”

And I: “I used to do meditation

Half hour a day, alone, maybe ten years,

I sat and let my mind play til it was

“Exhausted and it fell into silence.

And it is true, from just turning inward

And watching in the dark, I had the sense

That I was being subtly remade

And grew familiar with temperance.

A voice or influence was in my head

As if a guardian angel spoke to me

And so for years I prayed thus quietly.

“So much, so easy. When I heard the theory

About the uncreated fire of Spirit

That’s said surrounded Jesus in his glory

On Mount Tabor, I wanted to see that.

If I could see it and live to tell the story

Then, my life would have proved the ultimate.

And so, for many days and many years

I went inward to find those holy fires.

“And, as it were, to prove I was not wrong

And that it had been real all along.

To see God’s shine and put it in a song.

Without success. I was no longer young

But growing old. It was a hard agon.”

“And did you find this key to everything?

This deepest mystery and catch a sight

Of God?”, the Duke asked. Me, I shook my head.

“It’s said that heaven is taken by violence.

That you must try dead hard, and never quit.

But let me not digress or make pretense

That all these efforts had a clear result.

I know it now, from long experience

You do not seek for God, or for the light.

Rather, it comes for you when all your will

Is exhausted, and you are humble.

“Once, many times, I have as it were lain flat

As on a sandy beach just like a child

The warmth and light come to me after that

So I have seen the eternal fire of the world

And I have suffered the eternal light.

I make no claims for what I have beheld.

Not me, I want no prize or recognition,

But tell my story with the single passion:

“I am the outcast man that Plato said

Came from the cave, and told of the true sun,

And found that people much preferred him dead.

But Edward First, and the Duke of Wellington

An Irish aristocratic landlord,

Did knowledge of the type the saints have known

Become your interest, too? That seems absurd.”

My daughter saw now. We both heard his word:

“I walked alone, like you. Like everyman

Who has a soul. Regardless of his rank

Or cosmic place, a man will lose or win

Depending on his merit. See the king

Who did his part fighting the Saracen

Who his contemporaries called Longshanks

Who ruled in Ireland, Scotland, Wales, and France

And Godly, too: Plantagenets were Christians.

“He was the first to gather Parliament.

To banish usury, exiled the Jews;

He made the Scots feel national sentiment,

And in his wisdom he reformed the laws.

And all of this when other men have spent

Their time on earth as kings or slaves or worse

Avoiding truth, and duty.” So he spoke

And other things. But let’s take a rain check.