Andalusian Moon

It happened on one Whitsuntide
Neath the moon of AndalucĂ­a
And, low, my eyes were magnetized
By it’s celestial splendour

And all the airborne spores of spring
All trembled in the ether
The bourgonvillas as crimson as
The livid blood of Lorca

And all the earth’s sweet miscreant souls
Sang in gentle rapture
The Living Name of the Living God
No living man could utter

That name it bloomed inside my mind
As I drank from the fountain
Cathedrals rose from the soil of Spain
Hardening into mountains

And at that point where all the elements agree
In a universal system
The moon and I mirrored in the pool
Caused shockwaves of revulsion

I laid down on a rock to sleep
And my dreams were so painful that
When I awoke
The stone pillow had broke
Into a craggy heap

I am merely a man
And, though I recognise beauty,
I’ll never achieve it-
My nature limits and corrupts me.
But in that delicious abyss
Tween desire and attainment, I’ll abide
Tethered by the cold, gold chain of life
Until I succumb to oblivion
A rose-head tossed upon a hulking ocean
Between the welt and the lash
Tween the seedling and the sod
Here I shall mouth the Living Name of the Living God