Wednesday, 21 February 2018

We Take from People

We take from all People all that we most loathe and adore about them.

The Sun of all the years hath ever come to me travails
I think with something like contractions all mine love and hate
For all I most adore and loathe bequeath to me the prize
Of nature's sympathy with nature's furtive apostate;
I would not love mine sore condition nor that of mine foe
If only but to listen where none listened to the flesh
And blood the Sun of Man the Mother and the Mind alone
Unsafe, a thing rejected every letter that conception whence
The one suspended in the ethers waters of the womb
First spoke with loathe abhorrence for its very flesh and blood
Rejected lest it be suspected of rejecting, too,
The very kind of world that would reject its kingdom come
Subjected to a torture out of all proportion to
These organs of communication first immersed in ought
The waters of creation and the force and story this
First labour of the tabor's drum the flesh and blood of God's
Own knowledge written in the hunger even now engulfing all that lives
Consumed by all that is consumed and living, still, the mind
Whose very flesh and blood is by its every flesh and blood survived. 

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