LYRIC IN THE SPIRIT Every name is fateful, friends: The heights are calling Georges, Always and always calling; For man must meet his dragon At some degenerate corner From the hideous drag lapsed Issuing hell’s fiery stench! Let his head be in the heights! Let his arm be steady! Let his foot be rooted To the miracle of rocks! Oh, do not miss the hour, George, Or be shrunk to a mouse The dames pay no heed of Or humourless beetle Who might have been a hero And heard the laughter of God When the beast all a goggle Topples over surprised by light! * Every Peter is a fisher hearty and eager to do; on his mettle jealous of appointed eminence; heart leading baffled head; a fellow sturdy built who’ll never rest content walking on water unassayed. O Look about you, Peter; and see beside you, John, coming to meet you, Paul. Peter, let him do and John be till the word ripen like a fruit and fall and Earth shudder - and Paul, the inheritor, will be eloquent and bear the word out from closed rooms to perimeters of map. * If Peters and Pauls be vexed and blubber for their burdens, be meek let them remember and spare a tear for Charles, for Constantine and Henry – chaps cast at unequal odds of winning races so clapped – such a ding-dong of bells! – to forbidding heights sworn. All the Charles’ are called smitten with impossibility from kings sprout emperors – merry God would have it so whom no one ought to think unruddy, entirely solemn; who plays such tricks on Harrys, Cons and Charlies, pulling legs for long noses * Call him Edward; call him William, or Samuel or David, or Patrick, Andrew, George, or Christopher Ferryman who found a tiny child like a simple name weight crushing his frame. All the Charles’ will be Charlies and the Michaels will be Micks for the duration of the drinks and for any respite from the singing and the calling; from the singing of the spirits and the calling of the angels; always and always calling to the wakening and the rising! * To the chanting of the names and the granting of the crowns and the summoning to the road – to the road that sinks below to the fearful shadows and the road that rises to the fearful heights – and the two roads are one road and the one road is fullness after reach of terrors - and the spitting and the cursing and the cursing and the lying – and the one road is life, the fullness thereof and joy, a kernel wrapped in terrors; for the Father is above us the Son is beneath us and the Holy Spirit leads us. * There’s no respite from the singing; from the singing and the calling; from the singing of the spirits and the angels always calling to the sons and the daughters and the daughters and the sons; always and always calling to the wakening and the rising and the laughing and the roaring and the budding and the breaking and the soaring of the wings! And the chanting of the names and the granting of the crowns to the sons and the daughters and the daughters and the sons! For the Father is above us the Son is beneath us and the Holy Spirit leads us in the great way of unfolding! * J MARINUS
Posted on: Sun, 02 Feb 2014 13:18:45 +0000
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