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Sombre Sunday
Six bells after the black witchery of midnight,
The whistling toads have fallen asleep.
Like a resurrection from the shroud of night,
Ageless yesterday has returned today.
Under silvery skies, creation dawn ,
A white face moon still stares
As Apollo slowly guides his silvery chariot over mountain rim..
Silvery the tropical sky, silvery Cere’s veil,
Slowly tints with gold from her mantle lace,
Green changes to gold as she floats among the corn.
A white faced moon is looking at golden alamanda,
As a yellow winged butterfly is first to recline on a flower.
Others will follow bye and bye,
Perhaps to listen to the aria of the nightingales,
And to sip silvery dew from the hedge.
All is silent : there is no ringing of church bells,
But the silent music of the spheres,
Unheard by mortal ears.
The nightingales do not sing.
The stillness is too silent,
Breathing melancholy sighs ,
While Charon rows his boat across the Styx,
And Cerberus guards the dead.
Gently blowing on leaves which move
To the silent lyre of the god Athena, is a breath.
Unknown God , keeps secrets of His beginning to Himself,
What secrets my Unknown God keeps!
Which to know would probably blow mortal mind,
And destroy man’s hope of immortal soul.
The bones of Ardipithecus ramidus, millions of years old,
Rose from the dust of the Adar Desert of Africa,
But paleoanthropologists to shake the Hebrew legends with tremors
Have failed.
If man is millions of years old,
(He doubts not.)
But in man’s apogee, six hundred thousand years,
Man still fails to know who or what is he,
The pantheist claims Nature is God.
The atheist believes there is no God.
That agnostic does not know ,
Lke his proverbial Mother Eve was,
Of knowledge man is raped.
Horus, Isis. Vivacocha, Quetzalcoatl,
Races sought to find their gods.
The Hebrews didn't;
Their god found them.
(“I am the Lord your God.” is written
Yahweh said to the prophets.)
Today, a man stands before the white-robed priest,
Because he hungers for religion.
He eats the flesh and blood of Christ, half deluded perhaps,
Or believes, though he still sees no blood, but wine in the cup.
‘Transubstantiated, bread is flesh and wine is blood. “he is told.
(But why cheap insipid wine, though consecrated?
Christ made superior wine from water, it is written.)
“Mortals still see bread, but there is a Eucharistic change,
In substance, in essence,
Christ comes down to the altar, a living sacrifice,
At the highest point of the mass.”
(But this seems contrary dogma; Christ sacrificed himself only once)
“The Eucharistic rite is a miracle,” says the priest,
“But mortals cannot perceive the substance of things,
Only believe and thou shalt be saved!’ said the priest.
Pax tecum, Do you believe?
Et cum spiritu tuo.
(The pantheist looks and laughs, the agnostic does not know)
Did Mary’s corpse disappear from her tomb at Ephesus?
Befriending the Emperor, Athanasus dereated Areus.
( A truine God have had a hand in it?)
“What is truth?” Pilate asked sotto voce? ( Who heard him?)
Render unto Caesar, the things that are Caesar’s
Tomorrow, those who own shall pay their tax.
Since his kingdom is not of earth,
Christ paid his with a coin from a fish.
That being not enough, he paid from a cross.
He sat by the window viewing the distant mountains,
Alleluia Chorus seeped from his Kindle Fire,
But the musical strains led him
To slip from metaphysics into mythology
Like skating on the icy slopes of the Alps.
Minerva is the patron of music and poetry.
Invincible Ajax could not defeat invincible Hector,
But Paris mortally wounded Achilles in the heel.
Paris claimed that he was assisted by Mars.
Odysseus makes Ajax to kill himself,
But Alax is responsible for his own death.
Why Achilles had to kidnap Helen of Troy?
Men inflamed with illicit love will cause outrage.
The arrow armed cherub discriminates not,
Narcissus wept for his inaccessible love, Echo,
And Zeus indifferently looked on,
While Orpheus yearned for Eurydice.
In this manner Homer portrays
The inevitable tragedy of man and god.
Tyndale is Christ crucified once again; this time by the pope.
What was his heresy?
He tried to put knowledge in the hands of the common people.
Martin Luther nailed his theses on a church door,
(Alleluia Chorus insists to seep into his brain.)
The servants of God will rise again and again from the ashes at the stake.
Like the Phoenix.
Sitting by his window,
He did not hear the church bells.
Probably the strains of The Alleluia Chorus were too loud.
But he knew that the man was already in church,
He knew the turbulence in the man’s head.
The man had discoursed his dilemma with him.
But the man had not ceased from going to church,
He claimed it was the most peaceful place on a Sunday
To make his business decisions and …….
Prayer is powerful.
He claimed that he no longer listened to homilies.
Nor reads his missal, nor sings hymns.
The man believes there is God,
He claimed that is enough for him,
But mysteries of sacred mysteries!
He still partakes of the Eucharist, without believing.……..
Doubt is hi s cross .
“I am free!” declared the man,
“Free as the rainbow!
For God watches over me,”
(But who or what is God, he does not know)
“I do what I see as good.
I eschew what I see as evil.”
Sitting by his window,
Alleluia Chorus purifying his brain,
“Freedom demands obligation,” he said to the trees.
“If you say you have no sin ,
You deceive yourself!”
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