Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Requiem - New Poem from Cynthia Erlandson

This is a poem my wife recently completed. I hope you like it.


Three headstones: one marked “Love,” one “Everlove,”
And one – cathedralesque in ancient time,
Now cracked and leaning as if it would fall,
Marked “England” – cast their autumn evening’s pall
Of blended shadow shaped into a spire.
It pierces like an arrow of desire
That only heaven ever will remove.

Fast falls the eventide; now rings the chime
Heard by the faithful as a worship call;
But by those deaf to truth as just the fall
Of one more hour of climbing Babel’s tower,
Or one more vacant night to strive to fill
With empty-minded acts of bland good will
Which time will terminate, and death devour.

Unconscious of the evening clouds that lower
While autumn sunset burns the sky with gold,
The commerce-kings rush past at Vespers’ hour,
As if life’s meaning might be bought and sold.
Blind to the churchyard’s sure and certain sign,
They miss the sun’s last, horizontal ray
That shines on granite stones, foreshadowing
The lightened darkness of that final Day
For which the remnant worshippers still pray.

And do our hearts in modern times incline
To bury ancient landmarks, crumple creeds?
Yet True Jerusalem still intercedes
Amidst the clouded hills of God’s design.
Thus hinges history on pew and quire,
Surviving on the embers of her fire.

© 2010, Cynthia Erlandson


Castanea_d said...

Fine poem! Thank you for posting it. Those of us who pray Matins and Evensong at the church see the people rushing by on our downtown street, always busy with pedestrians, just as you describe, oblivious to the "churchyard's sure and certain sign."

We "ask for ourselves and on behalf of others those things that are necessary for our life and salvation" (1979 BCP p. 41). They should be glad we are doing it.

Anglican Beach Party said...

Thanks, Castanea_d!

I have passed your comments on to my wife. I'm sure she will be pleased.