A Poetic Response to G M Hopkins
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I imagined his religious marrow groaning
in some dark blood-chemical rejection.
Deep seated malaise, flesh verses heaven.
The broken rhythms
with a line or phrase
impatient to land,
But consistently checked;
As the more-clarity being strived for
is more close-imminent;
But God is depthless.
His poetry fizzes and shimmers,
Flooding, cascading then focusing-down on
Ants pant/ furious leg muscles,
Pounding out breathless miles,
Under burden and a higher goal,
Soul-connected to commune-good.
The click-clack, shield against shield
Swarm flying, flying in wait
for the Prophet’s rage
to direct asunder.
The flight, the soaring and whistling dive,
The burgeoning nest
chick-full of urgent life.
The onomatopoeic twitching and gurgling
of rock-pool fissures,
Heat driven from a molten heart
up-steaming the vapoured water.
Stoney-Stone images grey,
Cold-Stoney and lifeless,
Gathering on dank-earth-plains.
for this Poet
Is Nature Personified,
Incarnated with His-life,
And when alone/enthralled,
As a new faceted-diamond
side of God’s grandeur
heaves into view.
He’s one of the 24,
And can do nothing else,
But throw down his Crown
and whimper ‘Hallelujah’
to the One who made it All.
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