I watch the crazy
lady yelling at the desk
clerk; The couple fighting two
booths away; The paranoid
schizophrenic handling both
sides of the conversation; The
beggar demanding change;
and
the best of everything, that
I crave, that I prefer, that I gather
up and
take with me.
Through all eternity, through each farewell,
I call to thee; as I–as we endure
As much as do the fates our world compel–
Divine this hidden answer; this foretell:
Thy true, thy bidden answer, when away
My call to thee, past all, who as one, ban,
Decry, forbid, constrict with venom, they–
Impeach with venom anything we say.
Yet each untasted word of thine will fall
Upon my ear–will call to me; sublime
Mellifluence will sweet me to thy call,
Will taste me through such venom, one and all.
Such ardour hidden, heard I all the more–
That none would quell since first our life began–
Would call thee to my side through space and time.
Through eternity I hear your call now
Clearly
As I could not when I was a young girl;
When weather stations, and ice-lollies,
Hot summer side-walks, forts and spaceships
Consumed our imaginations.
Through eternity I hear your call now
Clearly
Having listened always to its faint echo
When on the road or on the stage,
The needs of the family, tears and solitude,
Consumed my imagination.
Through eternity I hear your call now
Clearly
Since you brought me home to you
To lay down my tired heart and rest
In this household made out of friends of our youth
Which now consumes my imagination.
Through eternity I hear your call now
Clearly.
Wherefore hath gone Humility, this Gift
That God hath given thee, that thou wouldst cast
So easily aside? Away so fast
His pearl hath been asunder set adrift
Therein; from thee this place so deep and vast
Must hide. So precious, thou hast thrown so swift
Away His all-forgiving Shrift, ‘twould lift
Ye all together and astride. Thou hast
His Spirit sore forsook, Thyatrian,
His word mistook, His boundless grace undone
And misapplied. Who then art thou who tried
His Grace–Galatian, His Gifts replace–
When to and through the law His Son hath died?
Yet still shall He forgive and thee embrace!
I believe
I know
I will not see, I cannot know, nor feel;
I may not hear, nor taste, and no aroma
Will I sense, nor trace of joy, of home
Or mirth of soul or peace, nor can I kneel
In silent prayer, ending this ordeal.
It presses with the weight of stars, this dome
Of light, this hellish sphere of music, gloaming
Not, nor offering reprieve to heal.
And canst thou truly think thou art a blessing,
Evil orb, so frighteningly loud?
Thy cruel intention hard upon me pressing;
Burning death, in state, without a shroud;
Canst not thou see the lie thou dost profess;
With neither dusk, nor mitigating cloud?
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
First east, then it’s west,
It’s a fairly easy guess.
I’ll leave it to you.
Clearly, I’m not crazy about it. That much is certain.
David Emeron: Sonnets 