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Part Two

From that moment onwards
Not when the fingerless muscles unclasped
    the indented bones
But from that moment of knowing
   from that very moment of sustenance
That day of human unbelief died unsung
And the depth of human grief buried long
      bestirred a momentous song

It willed within me it were man
   Some kindly soul no less
But in surfeit laid aside
   The biscuits of distaste

It willed within me it were some organisation
   Hurrying to the bed of despair
With the spare crumbs of conversion
   The Holy Infant to succour

I willed then it were a friend
   From want of excuse to teach
His fooling heart to bleat
   Robbed his conscience of a treat

I willed and willed and never
   In my thankless memory
Sat the image of my enemy
   The fulcrum of my singular division

And when that day I delved into my depths
   To find the words of irreproachable thanks
I saw you turn and stamp the light
   Of my begging steps of penance

I turned, rebuffed
  Should I have turned and gone
Away from the stony snarl of thanklessness
Away from all that I saw in that
      One inseparable act
Away from my insurrection
From the illimitable doubt of humility
Far away from all the coquetry of cunning

No man was divided more
   Between himself and self
Between life and cherished death
   Astride on the unwelcome threshold of emptiness

Had I come out of dying
   And yet the chained stick of fate
Was certain to unravel for me
   No less, no more, the vicious sting of hate

And revived with urgency's gratitude
Twice over, reconditely, I was blessed

(Continued in Part Three)

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