I will not cease from Mental Fight
Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green & pleasant land.
-----Willian Blake
(To be human in a hurt world is to evolve from being a tear because aware to
being a wound seeking others hurt by terror to becoming ash yet we revive to in peace resist)
Once we were a walking teardrop
Though we shone while we thought.
Then we were a walking wound
Wound wooing other wounds
Wound aiding other wounds
Wound asking other wounds
"Are you truly a wound too?"
Now we are ashes moaning with memory--
Are ashes anything other than moans?
Yet love exists even in ashes
Love may persist even in ashes.
May the Phoenix be formed
Out of our ashes
Whose feathers flash through the air
Like Blakean blades!
© Stephen Margulies, 2019
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| "The Garden of Love," by William Blake from Wikimedia Commons |
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