The Sword Inside

 [Poetry], The Sword Inside  Comments Off on The Sword Inside
Aug 292011

A purposeless scrub plain laid before the sight,
Inarticulate, has nothing to offer;
Neutral evolution's meaning is neuter
Until interpretive man stands near.

Cool swaths and charts of haughty stars
Whirling infinite on a pin
To rampaging wolf and twittering lark
Revolve innocent of sin.

But one constellation-loaded look or angst-angelic glance
Cast up by blameful man
Can trace God's wrath in each twinkling coordinate
As plainly as a plan.

Until the intuitive outcast on the monotone plain
Divided the iterative day
Into the arrowy horror of arbitrative time,
Inventing vatic history,

God's mercy and His blood could not from the dust
Gather us to his breast;
Bhudda in his monk-smock howled the rice from his throat,
A proctor without a test.

Lacking sin's spectacle or anticipatory hope's
Human ability to fail
Life spins in a bituminous bubble of unbecome,
A whereless, whenless exile.

Narrow animal and expansive man both hunt world and sky;
Anxious and inscrutable they rave.
The one with tooth, paw and blind beak will kill,
The other with inner glaive.