Wednesday, April 24, 2013

the christian's year in miniature - margaret avison


Beside the still waters,
God is, in flesh.
Now the skies soar

with song. Heaven utters.
In a white blur
lost, in a rush
caught up, we hear.


To the hills we lifted
our eyes, and you
sat on the pasture ridge
strongly in view,

and taught us. The breeze wafted
your voice through and through
our hearts. From the timeless verge
you moved, to our now.


Unsullied one, though midnight
is lucid to your heart,
here, in God's unspeaking
you are set apart.

Where kings brought gold by starlight
at first, now I have marred
your clarity, breaking
my clayful - to your hurt.


A walnut shell broken
(small, wafered skull)
still litters the hillside.
Morning breaks, still.

The garden, awaking
to a terrible day-swell
knows the rock-sweet, the pulse set
of Emmanuel.


Your places of dwelling
held up for our own
together, if we fashion
your now with soon

fill us with spoiling
of the deaths we had won.
Only in your possession
can such Life go on.

Avison, Margaret. "The Christian's Year in Miniature" Modern Canadian Poets. Jones, Evan and Todd Swift, eds. Manchester: Carcanet Press Limited, 2010. 83-4.