8th December
The Load
I met the landlord, and I kept my soul
And din of a man, he - ashen and cold,
Spoke quickly, confusing and burdened me up,
Left me for hollow when he’d had his sup.
I bore all his load till the day that we met
And one glimpse of You (Thou) bent the load from my fret,
To my frown, to my stern and then rocking me by
Had a game and a jig on the earth in the sky.
Till the load wasn’t there and it never had been
And all was before was so distant, a dream.
Till I saw in my friends what had once been my foe
And manipulative demon had all in his tow.
In his wake and the call of his burning black ship
And the wind it was blown from his proud blackened lips.
And I with my bellows coursed clouds through the sky,
So that his awful flames might moisten and die.
And then I with a light shone on that which was dead
As in light hides a nothing as in days out of bed.
And so days in my ear and days all around
Proving death to the devil and all he abounds
And the night she shone too until all that was now
Had been hoisted for viewing for all in the crowd.
I was glad in the light that crept ‘twixt new and old
And polished was all and so tender, so bold.
So meek in that moment, the inheritors all
And my friends and their friends saw in joy their loads fall.
They fell in they fell out they fell near they fell far
They gave all in a shout and put all to the stars
Hoisting them as one load, such a burdensome thing,
Troubling nothing that lives now and nothing that sings,
Nothing that dances, nothing that’s moved,
In the all-spinning circle of all that we proved.
So said I to the landlord, “I’ll not see thee here”
And went without answer, though I have both my ears.