95 His Parable
The Chosen One after all that he'd been through
was lying still-- & sirens wailed, & silver bowls
were melted down & the Garden, the Garden turned blue.
The mournful town was filled with sheepdog howls.
& when the Magdalen with green-eyed glance
rolled back the stone & let a blade of light
break in He was confused--dazed by the trance--&
wondered who He was--& whether it was right
that she advance & touching, lift his arm
across her shoulder (there in the dank darkness).
But soon her eyes (like ruby lamps) glowed warm
& on his lips she burned a mordant morning kiss
& said I am your servant Mary, here
to wake you now-- rise up! & be my valiant--volunteer!
Henry Gould | Island Road 96
Contents | Mudlark No. 6