Vision And Prayer
i W h oA r e y o
Who is
In the next
So loud
to my
That I can hear the
Opening and
the
dark
Over the ghost and the dropped
Behind the wall thin as a wren’s bone ?
In the birth bloody room
To the burn and turn of
And the heart print of
Bo w s n o b a p t i s m Bu t d a r k a l o n e
Blessing
on
The
Child.
Must lieS t i l l as s t o n
By
the
wren
bone Wall
hearing
the
Of
the
mother
And the shadowed head of
Casting
to-morrow
like
a
And
the
midwives
of
miracle
Until
the
turbulent
new
Burns me his name and his
And the winged wall is
By
his
torrid
And the dark
From
his
loinT o
b r i g h tL i g h t.
W h e nT h e
w r e
Bone writhes
And
the
first
Furied
by
his
Swarms on the kingdom
Of
the
dazzler
of
And the splashed mothering
Who
bore
him
with
a
bonfire
His mouth and rocked him like a stormI shall
run
lost
in
Terror
and
shining
The
once
hooded
roomC r y i n g
i n
v a i nI n the c a u l d r o nO f
h i sK i s s I nT h e
s p i nO f
t h e
s u nI n
t h e
s p u m i n
Cyclone
of
his
For
I
was
lost
who
Crying at the man drenched
In
the
first
fury
of
his
streamA n d t h e l i g h t n i n g s o f a d o r a t i o
Back to black silence melt and
For I was lost who have
To
dumbfounding
And
the
finding
And
the
high
Of
his
Blinds
myC r y.
T h e r
Crouched bareI n t h e s h r i n eO f
h i s
b l a z i n gB r e a s t I s h a l l w a k e
To
the
judge
blown
Of
the
uncaged
sea
The cloud
climb of
the
exhaling
And
the
bidden
dust
With
his
flame
in every grain.
O
spiral
of
From the vultured
Of
the
Of man
The
And T h eB o r n
s e
Praised
the
sunT h e fi n d i n g o n eA n d
u p r i g h t
A d a mS a n g
u p o n
o r i g i n !
O
the
wings
of
the
children!
The woundward flight of the
Young
from
the
canyons
of
oblivion!
The sky stride
of
the always
In
battle!
the
Of
saints
to
their
vision!
The world winding home!
And
the
whole
painF l o w s
o p e nA n d
ID i e . ii In the name of the lost who glory
The
swinish
plains
of
carrionU n d e r
t h e
b u r i a l
s o n
Of
the
birds
of
Heavy with the
And
the
green
dustA n d
b e a r i n
The
ghostF r o
The groundL i k e
p o l l e
On the black
And the beak of slimeI
pray
though
I
Not
wholly
to
that
Brethren
for joy has moved
The inmost
marrow of
my
heart bone That he who learns now the sun and
Of
his
mother’s
milk
may
Before the lips blaze and
To
the
birth
bloody
Behind
the
wall’s
Bone
and
be
And
the
wombT h a t b o r eF o rA l l
m e nT h e
a d o r e dI n f a n t
l i g h t
o
The
dazzling
Yawn
to
his
upcoming.
In
the
name
of
the
Lost
on
the
unchristened
In
the
centre
of
dark
I
pray
him That he let the dead lie though they
For his briared hands to hoist
To the shrine of his world’s
And the blood drop's gardenE n d u r e
t h e
s t o n
Blind host to sleepI n
t h e d a r kA n d d e e pR o c kA w a k
No heart
But
let
it
On the mountain crownU n b i d d e n b y t h e s u
And the beating dust be
Down
to
the
river
rooting
plainU n d e r t h e n i g h t f o r e v e r f a l l i n g.
Forever
falling
night
is
a
Star
and
country
to
the
Of sleepers whose tongue I tollT o m o u r n h i s d e l u g i n
Light through sea and
And
we
have
comeT o
k n o w
a l lP l a c e sW a y sM
a
z
e
sP a s s a g e
Quarters
and
gravesO f
t h e
e n d l e s s
f a l l.
N o w
c o m m o n
l a z a r u
Of
the
charting
sleepers
praysN e v e r
t o
a w a k e
a n d
a r i s
For the country of death is the heart’s size And the star of the lost the shape of the eyes.
In
the
name
of
the
In
the
name
of
the
unbornA n d
t h e
u n d e s i r e r s Of midwiving
Hands or instrumentsO in the
Of no
Now orN oO n e t oB e I p r a
May the
Sun spin a grave
And
the
colour
of
Stream
upon
his
martyrdomI n t h e i n t e r p r e t e d e v e n i n
And the known dark of the earth amen.
I
turn
the corner
of
prayer
and
burnI n a b l e s s i n g o f t h e s u d d e
Sun.
In the name of the damnedI would turn back and
To
the
hidden
But
the
loud
Christens
downT h e
s k y.
Am
found.
O
l e t
h i
Scald me and
Me in his world’s wound.
His
lightening
answers
Cry. My voice burns in his hand.
Now
I
am
lost
in
the
One.
The sun roars at the prayer’s end.
November 1944
