Friday, July 27, 2007

Poetry Friday- The Sword of Surprise

Sunder me from my bones, O sword of God
Till they stand stark and strange as do the trees;
That I whose heart goes up with the soaring woods
May marvel as much at these.

Sunder me from my blood that in the dark
I hear that red ancestral river run
Like branching buried floods that find the sea
But never see the sun.

Give me miraculous eyes to see my eyes
Those rolling mirrors made alive in me
Terrible crystals more incredible
Than all the things they see

Sunder me from my soul, that I may see
The sins like streaming wounds, the life's brave beat
Till I shall save myself as I would save
A stranger in the street.

This, like virtually all the poetry I post for friday, I found here.

3 comments:

clairity said...

A powerful poem! Who is the author?

Ria said...

Oops, I should have posted where I got it from.
I'm glad you like it, I do too.(: This poem, like all those I post here, is by G.K.Chesterton.

John said...

The imagery of this poem reminds me of the opening section of Ash Wednesday, by T. S. Eliot. I'm sure Chesterton would have had a kindred spirit poetically in Eliot, as they both saw the problems of modern society, and both saw a return to religion as the solution to them.