95     His Parable

The Chosen One     after all that he'd been through
was lying still--     & sirens wailed,     & silver bowls
were melted down     & the Garden,     the Garden turned blue.
The mournful town was     filled     with sheepdog howls.

& when the Magdalen     with green-eyed glance
rolled back the stone &     let a blade of light
break in     He was confused--dazed by the trance--&
wondered who He was--&     whether it was right

that she advance     & touching,     lift his arm
across her shoulder     (there     in the dank darkness).
But soon her eyes (like ruby lamps)     glowed warm
& on his lips     she burned a mordant     morning kiss

& said     I am your servant     Mary,     here
to wake you now--     rise up!     & be my valiant--volunteer!

                                Prospect Park

Henry Gould | Island Road 96
Contents | Mudlark No. 6