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The great, bloody and bruised veil of the world |
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The great, bloody and bruised veil of the world |
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The trees wave in England |
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The streams flow in England |
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The poor halt in England |
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The poor heart of England |
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"And did those feet..." |
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Hobbled and crippled as They were |
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By our disbelief |
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Hope here to find |
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Some honesty |
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(Green colour of the grass |
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The horsefresh smell arising |
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From its quietly glowing glory) |
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And did They |
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As They move from one sad gap of heart |
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To another |
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Did They hope to find us open |
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Look: much is my armour |
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I can show you all the walls that may be built |
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But mostly most of all- |
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There's a wall of words |
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Around my heart which is my soul which is my all |
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God is not dead for all of us |
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(And goodbye to you all) |
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This is all Paradise |
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Here is Garden Of upon Garden Of |
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Upon |
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Suns and Beetles |
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The Ladybird lands upon my knee |
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The Lark is all joy |
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There are birds upon birds |
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Beyond the great, bloody, bruised and silent veil |
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Of this world |
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The kind one waits |
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Staggered pain of being |
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The great, bloody and bruised veil of the world |
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The great, bloody and bruised veil of this world |
