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Prophecy

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My brother and my son on the edge of the cliff
Walking and talking, they look out to sea;
I shout and I shout, but they don’t hear me.
They’re fading, they’re falling, off the cliff side
The sky is as huge, and the sea is as wide
As the moving of moon, as the rising of tide.
This Calvary moment, when Satan speaks well
Of how he’ll adjust things and make it all swell,
If only I’ll sell him the right to the light. Darkness
Arrives in the middle of day: dripping with blood
That won’t fade away. The shadow is mighty and
Darkness holds sway. The man on the cross, taking
Aeons to die, remembers his son’s last despairing cry:
“My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?”
The eternal goodbye wrapped in the spirit of prophecy. 
 
 

◄ The paradise of despair

Tender is the Night ►

Comments

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John Marks

Sun 17th Jul 2022 22:33

Thank you Holden.

The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven..

John Milton, Paradise Lost

Holden Moncrieff

Sun 17th Jul 2022 00:47

A truly powerful poem, John! "If only I'll sell him the right to the light" is such a brilliant and profound line! 🌷

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