Charles Jenkins

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Sailing From Byzantium

Do old men have a country anywhere?
A place where passing years have no effect,
And, free from thoughts of aging and despair,
Souls can rejoice in timeless intellect?
I've seen Byzantium, but doubt that even there
My soul could pass for one of God's elect.
Perhaps it's a relief He won't take me
Into that vacant, vast eternity.

The golden vaults and incense-scented air
Enchanted me. But, knowing, stern and bold,
The icons eyed me with a mocking stare,
And did not draw me to their loving fold.
Those precious ornaments, so rich and rare
That blazed before me only left me cold.
I saw the gold mosaics on a wall,
Trumpets in hand, but did not hear their call.

And if those images could only speak
I know their sharp rebukes would disappoint
(At least, if I could comprehend their Greek) :
"Here stands a soul that we cannot anoint;
His mind is willing but his body's weak,
Drawn to the harems on Seraglio Point.
Don't waste your time on him; send him away.
It's eros that he wants, not agapē."

Men never quite grow wise. They just grow old.
Some men are fools who hope their hopeless passion will
Becalm itself and loosen its tight hold.
They pray a host of angels with compassion will
Rein in their thoughts till they do as they're told.
Sick with desire they wish they could be rational.
The wiser ones accept there is no cure
To tame the heart and let the head endure.

Some wish for heaven and its cleansing fire
To separate the body from the soul.
God seems indifferent; I wish His ire
Would fulminate and turn them into coal
Or that I had the patience not to tire
Of those who think that death will make them whole.
They want a God made flesh, yet they would be
Purged of the flesh for all eternity.

Transformed, transcendent, turned like sacred art
Into pure spirit? It would be a waste,
A soul no longer subject to the heart.
Come, Holy Spirit, but don't come in haste!
Why should I want a form that makes me part
From mortal things and leaves me cold and chaste?
And so I've sailed the seas and home I've come
Turning my back upon Byzantium.

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