POETRY

Tales have been told of fair maidens,
Housewives who gave men burdens;
End of such flailing fates of glitching gardens.

Behold, God has restored Eden,
Reminisced the prophecies he had spoken:
‘In a land below Ethiopia, of a people trodden,
Dreaded, will I remember the forsaken,
Ensign of war raise in my holy garden.’

Oh what a beauty that fades not within time;
Forsaken beauty, charming off the birdlime,
Thinning off old stains of a dirty cream –
Holy city, made of gold, all the stones that gleam,
End of loneliness that gripped the world for a time.

Lo! She’s dressed in fine linen, twain, bearing great light,
And mountains, hills and towers crumble at her sight
Male in female: Christ in the Church, united for a fight
Breaking fetters and winning for the sheep with great might.

Love is perfected, marriage ordained, and children born.
All day, keep the bells ringing, notes of joyful alerts on,
Novelties of the Lord be everywhere known
Till the end, till the Bride and the bridegroom are gone
Into a land promised for the elects alone.
No night has ever seen that new dawn
Only her children who her beauty own.

Dates and ages of men have been trodden under
And all the stars in heaven marvel and wonder,
Rolling and reeling in happiness as they ponder
“Long live the Bride! Long live her king!” they thunder,
In grace and truth, their souls they render,
‘Oping without doubt for eternity, leaving all hinder.

Dearest of all creatures ever seen on land;
All flowers, best of magnolias, that Devils offend,
Ripe grapes, finest smeddum, and sweetest band
‘Long unto her. And her Lord, a winnowing basket in his hand
Artfully blows chaff away, picking out the sand,
Nicking all thieves seeking to rob and against her stand.

Roses, lupines and morning flowers to all whose home,
Unknown to heathens and hypocrites who about roam,
Knit with the fetid trolls of this passing Rome,
Is gleaned with gold dust, sheening like brown loam
High up on Mount Zion, a fortress to all who walk by the new norm.

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Writer: Br. Lamittan Minsa