Simone Weil. Well, good for him. But there are certainly others: the child Who restores justice, the officer Standing over the heart; and some who bear The weight of sorrow to the driven fold. How many centurions are there in the New Testament?
Have I miscounted? One Spoke with authority of discipline Brought to salvation. Yet another slew. Christ with a thrust straight out of army school. One made himself responsible to St. You new-arising through a cosmic web Of truth and fable to a signal reign; Grand misconceivings we ourselves assign; Interminably thus, the Goat, the Crab β. Cursing I say: never so much betrayed, Regina Coeli; onerous desire Something implanted in the viscera, A sensual migraine shafting eye through head;.
Cries of assent from those displaced in mind. Childhood, Annunciation, the Dormition: Rich in theology our poor contrition; Late snow ravelling off along the wind. Otherwise Gnashing and gnawing sound out your praise. Salve regina. Visible, invisible,. Powers, presences, in and beyond the blue Glass, radiantly-occluded Sion, pour Festal light at the feet of the new poor, Scavengers upon grace, if grace is true;.
If not, then, as they say, all is allowed. Where chronic devoirs clatter to adore La Dame du Pilier and her wooden stare, The priests come nodding by, dainty and shrewd,. Like virgins with trim lamps devoutly oiled, To do the honours of your mysteries. Through what straits might I come to worship this, And kneel before you, and be reconciled,.
Among the flowering lances, the heathen Gold phalanxes of flame; at the high seats Where Mercy is redeemed from its own threats; With dumb-struck martyrs trumpeted to heaven? Secured in mazy lead and bevelled stone. Outside the glass, pigeons rancid as gulls Roost in their stucco-dung on the tiered sills. The candles blur the air before your throne. Love is at odds. Your beauty has gone out Too many times, too vividly has flared Through the mild dreams of Herod undeterred.
