Echo Point 4: Theme In A Bass Clef Poem by Michael Buhagiar

Stone, the emblem of the timeless become space
- Oswald Spengler


What do the isles of cliffs encode
Placed like studs of gold with such art
That this velvet shows an endless road
To the eye that quests for the hidden heart?

It is this, the secret heart of the matter,
Rising from the sunless depths of the sea
That the Holy Grail within may utter
The Word of God from its every tree.

Thus, the palimpsest yawns the planes to disgorge,
And the roar they make is the gravedigger’s song,
And the flames of Gertrude’s faggots forge
A bomb that for rudeness of cliffs atones.

For the cliffs are dark when drowned below,
But, lifting their cheeks to the sun, they glow.