We Prophets Poem by Daniel Brick

We Prophets

Rating: 5.0


E'er since the time the Judge on high
Conferred upon me a prophet's vision,
I read in ev'ry passing eye
Whole tomes of malice and derision
from THE PROPHET by Lermontov

A six-winged seraph stood
Before me on a crossroads dreary;
He touched my eyes...
Now armed with a prophetic power
They opened wide....
from THE PROPHET by PUSHKIN

Long ago, when I was young,
and what people thought about me
worried me, we prophets
were despised by everyone,
young and old, rich and poor,
devout or pagan. Who or what
they were mattered as little as
a single leaf on a massive oak tree:
they all equally despised us.
We were a sorry company, lean,
pock-marked, smelly, weak
to the point of fainting in a crowd,
clinging to each other. We walked and walked,
through forests, villages, high hills, tundra,
and only stopped to rest at isolated lakes
or deserted river valleys. Parishioners and priests
alike banned us from entering the Churches.
We prayed fiercely in our interior devotions,
and sometimes raised our scrawny voices in
hymns. Then an angel appeared suddenly
among us, shining and glowing, and he spoke
gently in our hearts. He led us in a forgotten
dance, a dance of celestial things, with music
we heard in our hearts accompanying our movements.
It was daylight when we began, it was deepest night
when he stopped. We gradually realized we were living
angelic lives. We sang hymns as we danced, and did
not notice the angel that had withdrawn...
Each of us felt the Hand of God
touch his head. Again and again we felt
that touch, both gentle and firm, absolutely
a touch of Grace. I have been smiling ever since!

I could tell you many things, if you are
ready to hear them, or I could stay silent
and pass through your village. I could tell
you of a life of service. I could tell of
a perpetual thirst. I could tell you how
we hover around artists as they struggle
to make a marriage of Truth and Beauty.
I could describe a Temple within our hearts,
which we will never finish building.
I could assure you we dive deeply into
your wounded psyches, and in that electric zone
neither here nor there, wrestle with demons.
And we see your beings expanding to angelic
proportions. Trust me, there are so many things
awaiting you once your apprenticeship is over!
You will say, this earthly life is vexed
into a temporary glory. Oh! Oh! Everything
will unfold, open out, become a thousand times
more than itself, and keep opening out
into Space and Time as they steadily become Eternity.

Monday, May 29, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: religious,vision
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Daniel Brick 30 May 2017

As always, Marie, you give me the mystical dimensions of poetry in general and mine in particular. Your distinction between immortality and eternity is very important, and I think implicit in this poem, and you bringing into clearer focus. I like your identification of the angel (whose instruction makes them truly prophets) with Jesus. I had not considered this character's identity but Jesus, perhaps incognito, fulfills this role of pushing these men, summoned to be prophets but not yet ready, across a final threshold. This parallels how Jesus summoned flawed human beings and turned them into apostles fired by his example.// I too like the last half dozen lines. I had no idea how to describe the Eternal, but I just started writing and the words flowed out of me. // You know how Rilke used angels as a trope for existent beings (they are real!) who are not divine in the Greek or Christian senses, but they occupy a niche way above us humans in their knowledge and power, AND in their absence of desires which enfold humans into time and trap them there. I am not as Pessimistic about Desire: Wagner raises it to the spiritual level in TRISTAN UND ISOLDE which I revere. The surrealist poet Rene Char identified himself as simply A MAN OF DESIRE. Desire is like an unfinished bridge: when we reach the end of it, we either turn around and go back, or take a huge leap and hope we start to fly across the abyss and land in some kind of (perhaps) temporary paradise until we are ready for the FULLNESS OF REALITY. When we leap, then we may need more help from our Angels.

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Kumarmani Mahakul 29 May 2017

The time is the Judge on high abode. Conferred upon you a prophet's vision is poetically excellent. This poem is very well crafted and this carries power of light and power of knowledge with beautiful expression. There are so many things awaiting you once your apprenticeship is over. Time is associated with eternity. We need to trust. An outstanding poem is shared here.10

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