Poetry

Resurrection 24

I made talk in the night as I have told

With the creator of the universe

And spoke again: “We abandoned the world

Receiving poverty and friendlessness

As punishment. Like Anthony of old

Or like Jesus, for better or for worse

We kept on trying, for better or for worse

We lived like Jesus’ early followers.

“Meek as the monks that Henry Tudor’s knights

Drove from the abbeys and the monasteries

Now we are nobles enjoying the ancient rights

An English man on his own land enjoys

To cultivate the land and go on shoots

In the green waxed jackets that they wear outdoors

With rubber wellingtons around their feet

Using a Landrover to get about.”

The still small voice replied: “It’s the reward

Of the dispassionate heart in this kingdom.

Fit for a soul obedient to God.”

And I said: “How is the earth a second time

Different from what it was when it was made?

The poor in spirit can now call it their home

And they can talk directly as we are

As at a festival or at a public bar?

“All happy as you feel when drinking wine

Relaxed and tolerant with other folks

As it was when we went for communion?”

And he said: “We have had our little talks

And spoken with each other man to man.

But in your first life, you would not relax

And hear me well, except at liturgy

At liturgy we met just like today.

“Behind red curtains drawn across a stage

Which hide the scene when props and men prepare;

So was I near to you in that past age

So close to you and yet hidden and far.

I know you, weary from this pilgrimage

You want your children and your wife. I hear.

I know the plans I have for you, to prosper

And not to harm you; plans of hope and the future.”

I know what you think. You would like to know

You want some proof that what I have described happened.

What did God look like? When I looked I saw

In the joyous freedom of imagination

Coupled with ideal forms of right and law,

The other half of my soul’s composition

My wife, my optimistic loyal friend

My eyes adored her, my start and my end.

I used my eyes to see my great maker

But saw the inheritor of my grandmother

How she provides for me with loving care

Prepares my food and house when I don’t bother

And she expects me to be a man for her.

She is attentive to her clothes and hair

And she deserves my praise and all my love

My children are like cubs, she the she wolf.

So when I looked at God I saw my wife

My house, my kids, and other things I love.

But if you don’t look, then there is no proof.

I looked again and then he seemed to have

A million beautiful things up his sleeve.

A dancing party where the dancers move

In ceremonial dress in celebration

Of some old battle fought over their nation

Which they survived, to reproduce their kind.

A knees-up with some music and singing

Astonishing young women hand in hand

A ritual winter dance, or for the spring,

The beauty of it mystified my mind.

A get-together of the old and young

That I would wish to see in my homeland

If it were ever raised where it lies damned.

That’s what I saw, or just fraction of it

When I looked to the source of what I heard.

“And what about the woman that I left

The bad one I divorced. Is she now dead?

It would be wrong to say I have not loved

A wife who had my balls. Where is she?” I said.

He did not answer. I sat down in sorrow

Thinking of the past and worried about tomorrow.

Of my mistakes and the punishment for them

And things which could not have been otherwise

Which I did badly or caused others harm,

Of children out there, distant from my eyes,

Out there for real, like me, far from their home,

Their mother dead, my happiness in tears.

A man is not complete when he is alone

The human being is a twofold union.

My complex book is very hard to read

So I would feign provide a summary

And draw a breath. The universe had died,

Compressed down to a singularity.

When I woke up I was resurrected

And found a plot of land and family.

I had my orders to encourage it

And build a home for us on that small plot.

Then, having orders to leave it behind

I walked to Flint; the children came along.

It was a castle on the river strand

The river Dee it was, all wide and strong.

Inside, immortal spirits turned my mind

To justice sanctioned by the English king

Which men have framed and used in previous days

And will live on forever and always.

From there to Rhuddlan castle on the coast

I went, but many of these mansions were

Raised on the beach for King Edward the First,

I didn’t know why, then, and didn’t care.

In there I saw how states are governed best.

Crossing the straits at Anglesey I saw

My children taken from me; so, from then

I carried on unhappy and alone.

It was on that island at Beaumaris

I was instructed by the greatest saints

The Church has sheltered, and straight after this

I crossed back to Caernarvon’s battlements

Where truth and talk were shown to be the prize

Awarded after these high achievements.

I learned that being saved was life’s true point

And talked with God. That is my testament.