Occasional Impressions

Gemini Twin

Poem written in Jerusalem

I did some social work the other day;
I worked with people, for them,
with them - slave
of self, the ex-philosopher,
and so unpaid.

A king will wait upon himself
all day - attendants bearing cups
symbolic cover for elaborate plans
of patronage
for poorer men who paint
or study
or lie sick.

A man lived here who washed a peasant’s feet.
Was this the sweetest luxury of all
for one acclaimed the over-long-awaited?
No, Mr Eliot knows, the biggest kick
escapes the never-martyred.

Thank God you toppled then to self
sufficiently disguised as priests
and mobs
and circumstance.

Thank God, my God, you rose.

Unfallen, unrisen Jeshua cannot help
all those who venerate the warners Allah sent
to bravely live.
You are no use until
I guess your humbug.

Until you serve
to stilly mute my wondering, Jesus,
into wonder.
emn - jul 1973

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