memoirs, art and fragments by Thomas Milner

Posts tagged ‘star-crossed cosmos’

The touch of love

At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet

PLATO

I am an atom

A child of Chaos

Inhabiting now a wisp of gas

Now a chip of matter

Travelling for countless billions of years

Riding the star-crowded waves of the cosmos

I have witnessed extraordinary things

I have seen the birth of wondrous worlds and their demise

Flicked casually aside – the butt-ends of space

Thus I voyaged through the universe until I reached this place.

 

I was a tiny worm wriggling deep in the mud of the restless ocean.

I was a clam clamped to the wave-washed rock

Refusing to give up my secret.

I was one of the first marsupials to heave myself out the water onto the newly-formed land

Waddling with my fins up the primordial sands.

l loped and crouched semi-sapient and half-erect through the dark forests.

I was eyeless at the wheel toiling blindly with slaves.

I was one of the drunken Frankish knights who entered Jerusalem wading waist-high in

Blood.

I flew point in a V formation of wild geese flying across the Canadian uplands.

I was an eagle quartering the dizzy sky scanning the earth with my piercing eyes

Before diving onto my terrified prey.

I was a pearl diver, plunging down with my weight-stone into the murky green depths,

Forever seeking that glittering prize.

 

I was the leopard prowling

The rain-drenched gats

Of the Carnatic

 

I was a drop of dew

Garnered at dawn

In the Western Sands.

 

I was the blade

That pierced the side

Of the suffering prophet.

 

I was with my forebears

Crouched on the duck-boards

Of a Celtic-green trench.

 

I was the banner flouting

The northern sky

Fanning our people cold

 

I beat the warm thermals

With my featherless wings

I, Icarus, fell.

It Beggars Belief

A bowl of soup, a glass of wine

And thou beside me,

Ranting in the wilderness.

All the teachings of the Inspired Scriptures

Are dwarfed by the immensity

Of the star-crossed cosmos.

Pascal’s wager need not apply.

Our vile bodies are consumed by fire

Urns of ashes towards sundown.

We therefore commit his body to the deep

In the certain hope that the sea will

Render him up on the Day of Judgment.

No sudden Epiphany brought me to this point,

Only the calm acceptance

That it beggars belief.

It beggars belief that we are all born

With the in-built virus of corruption,

Weighed down by some primordial guilt.

It beggars belief that our world,

Our wondrous awful world

Should blight our brief lives.

As flies to wanton boys

So are we to the gods;

They kill us for their sport.

WILLIAM BLAKE – THE DAY OF JUDGEMENT

 

It Beggars Belief

A bowl of soup, a glass of wine

And thou beside me,

Ranting in the wilderness.

 

All the teachings of the Inspired Scriptures

Are dwarfed by the immensity

Of the star-crossed cosmos

 

Pascal’s wager need not apply.

Our vile bodies are consumed by fire

Urns of ashes towards sundown.

 

We therefore commit his body to the deep

In the certain hope that the sea will

Render him up on the Day of Judgment.

 

No sudden Epiphany brought me to this point,

Only the calm acceptance

That it beggars belief.

 

It beggars belief that we are all born

With the in-built virus of corruption,

Weighed down by some primordial guilt.

 

It beggars belief that our world,

Our wondrous awful world

Should blight our brief lives.

 

As flies to wanton boys

So are we to the gods;

They kill us for their sport.

FORBIDDEN BEACH - PAINTING by THOMAS MILNER

 

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