Rousay

I stumbled on this on an ancient pc –  seemed worth sticking up. 

God ambushed me
one autumn Tuesday evening
in Plaistow Lane, Bromley
as I walked to apologise
to a bunch of ‘Jesus Freaks’
for mocking them the night before
when they played guitar and sang at me,
 
“You gotta be a baby to get to heaven.”
 
An irresistible cleansing fountain
of love and of light from beyond Infinity
scintillated through me – crown of my head
down to my feet and back again.
 
I knew that life could never be the same.
 
My eyes were opened I began to see:
The world unfogged by illusion’s lens.
The unspeakable beauty of the Earth.
The symphonies of colour and the songs of birds.
The compelling love of the ‘Unknowable One’.
 
I drank deep of that love
and was force-fed rejection.
My parents turned their backs.
The one I married showed me the door,
 
“Choose! Choose god or choose us.”
 
The children were infants
they would not remember me
so for the sake of the family
I forsook the family
and chose the pilgrim way.
 
On broken bleeding feet
I limped the flinty coast path north,
hopped a boat to Orkney
and lost, and found,
myself in obscurity.
 
He unfolds an old letter written
to his wife, and reads an extract.
 
It will be sighed over
then put back into its faded 
‘return to sender’ envelope
and stowed for safe keeping  
in a dresser drawer
 
 “Winter is approaching
at the speed of rain.
 
Death is closer now
I’m about to take the path
we all must tread that leads
from this life to the greater one.
 
You might have enjoyed living here
in my croft beside the burn.
I’ve a family kitchen,
with a smoky peat stove
but no family
one eats with me.
 
You would love the view of Egilsay
across the bay. I spend my days
spotting otters, bobbing seals
and craaking gannets feeding.
 
And over-arching the seabirds’ racket,
there is the rainbow silence.
 
The awesome numinous cathedral silence.
 
You should be here, sharing
the years of memories
we would have gathered
as we sat together
warm around the stove.
 
I wonder where you are.”
 
I wonder where we ever are
 

 

© coolhermit 2018
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critique and comments welcome.

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