IN ALL ITS BEAUTY

Though long winter has departed
From within the little garden,
The magnolia, blatant in bloom,
Is sad victim to vernal delusion.
Shivering in bitter isolation
It is not alone in ignorance,
For beneath its sagging branches
Cold campion and dying daffodils
Tremble together in hibernal frost,
Though cowered by fog of early dawn,
Battered and bruised by daily storm,
They share the complacency of their host
And believe winter’s pain has passed.

In title, spring nestles with them,
But they hear not the groaning of glaciers
That crack and plunge into turbulent seas,
Nor heed the rise of waters in smug vales
And the ruthless rush of destructive storms
Tearing land from precious coastline,
Nor perceive the withering of grassland
Which fail to nourish disparate beasts,
Or smell flesh rotting in new deserts.
These, the pixicato trappings of nature,
Warn of the breaking of the sacred link
Between man and the soil of mother earth.

But tonight it is too late. For
The sky grows pale and crystal clear.
Pressure drops and in cloudless skies the moon
Swells to a gigantic balloon,
A transparent mobile that holds still
Until plunging temperatures
Unleash devastating forces.
The blossom fuses to a glacial shroud,
Then as energising saps congeal and freeze
The magnolia burns from within.
And with a splintering crack the woody fool
Explodes into myriad pieces.

Drawn into a decaying world,
And befuddled with sorrow,
God wearily enters the little garden.
And, surveying the dereliction, weeps,
For he has given so much to so many,
For so long and at such little cost,
He blesses the earth but it is too late.
For the people, lying hands on him,
Take him to the magnolia tree
And cruelly crucify him.

And as son can be father of the man
So what can be done with son,
So with the father can.

A red mist separates the earth
From the sun, moon, and stars,
The music of the spheres is silenced
There is no morning noon or night
No whine of the winds on sail
No waters wash the shore
No sign of beasts, no breath of man

The black planet will dislocate
And in outer space relocate,
And silence will prevail
Behind the little garden’s gate.