Hymn [from A Volcano Island]

      I 
      No power moves through the absent womb of world 
         Save the unchilding freedoms we exhume, 
         Rareeshow raptures or agonies of grace--- 
5     Initialed nights glorying boyhood's chrysalid had shed, 
      Choosing or willing the infinities that we use. 
      Anything is possible on the prayered moment if 
      We can ourselves conform to our intensest wish. 
                        II 
10    Sudden glory, like a chastizing star, comes down 
         In visitation of a beauty so profound 
         It charms from the chorus mass of men and hearts 
      Slim glimmers of awakened individual; like a spark 
      Sighing half-alive, and into weedy rushes blown 
15    That shift disconsolate in brutish dreams beneath the swell 
      Of vaulting summer skies, hugely serene, 
      That wait in their million fires, half-alone, 
      For the solitary touch to shatter them, and fall. 
                        III 
20    When nature's blossoming bower hovers over-- 
         Impelling love of kind and kind for kindred 
         Into the roving mind lost dew-dazzled in the grass 
      Where leaf soft leans on leaf while faded hours pass 
      Thoughtless in the light weaving blades tie rainbows of, 
25    All confusions of the thousand rivers of thought we wove 
      Return to the solitary glory of their mountain cone above. 
                       IV 
      Does the mutable rose regret the sorrow 
         That seeded its mystery forth, 
30       When some previous forethought 'tomorrow' 
      Spoken by argent dreams into the midnight ear did late 
      Blind its parents to their unhappy state? 
      What momentary interplay of unquitting faith 
      Can ever give to us the tenth we pledge to it? 
35    Unbeholden, proud, irreducible and true: ourselves. 
      Out of ecstasy engendered can never come hate. 
                         V 
      But death is no soft pursuer, and crimson without relent 
         Stalks the lambent arteries of the brain 
40       Shifting an unlifted sword of terrifying flame, 
      Crowned with the antlered ratoon barbs of blood. 
      To survive past his infliction would vitiate our hour 
      Or fold what we are into what will be, or should. 
      We are winning princes of ever-nascent hue 
45    Until dread and expectation dethrone our power. 
                        VI 
      The individual and his hissing spit of flame 
         Remain an inviolable fire, never shamed 
         By that which rises outlandish from the crux 
50    Of this safe diminishment and purgatorial flux 
      Of knowing and unknowing we purblind endure, 
      Then clamor to regain, aping ignorance's blessing word, 
      Crying out upon the rock: I do not know, not what, 
            not why! 
55                      VII 
      Beauty dissipates like the morning star, moving on 
         To an unknown noon we never can remake; 
         O artisan of ecstasies, defy 
      With inmost grace my tembril heart's white-speaking argosy 
60    That foretells disasters in a triumph never crowned, 
      Or weak in the dividing chine of sable fields 
      Thinks eyes that see her dying will never see her healed. 
                         VIII 
      Beauty brushes up the brigand love in me, 
65       Feels severe heavens burn 
         Banished in a blink of pain; 
      O summer dove, gone too often, so lightly afraid 
      Of my intruding face, thrust too high again...! 
      What should sustain this troubled ecstasy I feel 
70    Vanished breathless into those misty rocks 
      Swept with ominous shadows malformed by thought, 
      Chambering a dark feeling I cannot bear to see? 
                       IX 
      All life is a snaky finger pulling out a braid! 
75       Still I feel the opposite 
         Crowd into my aching thought 
      Until every true light in darkness takes some part, 
      And a looming mood is descending to obscure 
      The innocent auguries of ever-sought, that risp 
80    The haloed meadow in a world gone sour, eclipsing 
      Each dew-weighted blossom with some soft blot.

 

From the collection "A Volcano Island"

Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]

More information available on gregglory.com.