Sunday, January 27, 2013


Where could a visitor
Come here his
Only leaving
Whence could a star
Born child escape his
Alone away enthralling
Fair born mother
Leaves among the province
All the sea-still grace
And creaking asking
Why her sun-child visits
Desperate planet servants
Like unto this
Who would choose to
Come here his
Feet on the dust his
Face a mask of glory
What could complete
A road-weary man
Of many journeys
Basking on the back
Of a country filled
With pain and chilling need
When will he leave us
When will his parting
Days begin if so many
Of us need him
How will we quarter
Portion head and eaves
Of knives to carve him
If he chose to join us
And now he chooses to
Go his separate way.

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