Two unrelated poems. Feedback?
If these dark hills were all the world, the world would not be small.
This infinite and endless sky, the lengths that light must fall,
The lamps that hang outside men’s doors, and fill the hills with stars,
The symphony of sweeping winds, the noise of passing cars.
At times we must recall ourselves, by journeying to see
Things not ourselves, things we could never even hope to be
“This then thou art, this neither then thou art” is well and good
But surely thou art not the wind, and thou art not the wood;
The length and span of human heart cannot the world contain,
And none can hold themselves sans martyrdom and pain.
If I am everything, the stars from sullen skies will fall
When I am all the world I see, the world indeed is small
*****
Let’s light the beacons on the hills,
The lanterns on the windowsills
Impelling roving sons return-
The time has come, at last, to learn,
The things most easily ignored.
Diminished things, at last restored
The King returns from Avalon
To sing a hymn in Albion,
And we, the children of the day
Will be made whole, as prophets say
And walk upon a windswept shore
Divine, but discontent no more.
