Sunday 14 June 2015

VISION OF MY FIRST LOVE

I want to fire
Myself down
Like the discarded
Thing that I have

Become

With the irrelevant
Hidden powerless
Of this world

In this singular
Moment

To be reclaimed
By the Vision
Of my First Love

The purest bare
Necessity

A small
Contemplative
Opening

Into memory

Something bypassed
Missed along the way

Fleeting ruminations
Unlearned prayers
Tasted

An altar boy
On the bus home

Fervent Legionary

Catena on his lips
Mary in his heart

She that comes forth
As the morning rising
Fair as the moon
Terrible as an army

Such strange
Minglings

I prostrate myself
Full stretched emptiness

Arc into Interior

On the cathedral floor
Of my intense and infinite
Yearning

The all consuming truth
Of who I am
In the sight of God

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