sw00637sem-2.spiriel

Seminary           2                                                         


     Written in 1961, this is the second of three elegies on spiritual life.



 Spiriel


To dusty depths declined,
A desert dune, a transient creature formed
And blown away by midnight winds,
My fort of flesh was last reduced.

But Spiriel, immortal soul,
Deprived of ivory-orbing grace,
Dwelled in damp and fog;
In mossy muck and mires
Of mortal-wounding death.

Here stood my soul:
A fountain in the rampart's court.
Then Spiriel fell:
A weedy, muddied desert hole.

(Imagination quickly tires
 When ponderous thoughts
 Impose an equal sorrow
 Upon the inner man.)

So dark became the pool           
Of Spiriel, the calm
And clear reflection
Of Almighty God,
When that transparent, unseen grace,
The life of life from Life,
Returned to Him Who makes;
Who gives and justly takes.

O Spiriel, O Spiriel,
I've sentenced thee to deepest hell.

And now objective musing
Does recall
The hidden truth within
Those once insurgent entities
Which long subjective musing
Would forestall:

The turbid nimbus
Of deep, unchecked desires
A fatal poison pours.

Exciting thus emotions
Causing melancholy moods,
Recharged imagination
Excogitates this mighty,
Interrogative reproach:

Insane instant,
What thought of gain
Aroused your blind approach?
What happiness abides
Within infernal fires?
Do thou answer me or not?

Oh, how my heart evaporates
Beneath the torrid streams of gloom,
Desperation and despair,
As dew beneath the summer sun.

I am weak, so weak.
O my soul, how black you are!
How coal-like are your waters;
The pool of life,
How putrid and defiled it is!
My life is but a nigrous stench.

Would that my skin were night
And my soul were white.

Return, return, I cry aloud.
Return, O purest grace.
From mirky dungeons
I petition your attention.
Bend your ear
To the yearnings of my voice.
My suffering heart entreats
You:  Come, my soul's sweet life.

Dear Faith, at least you still
Remain to keep me near
To that Forsaken One
Of Whom my mouth did form
This phrase:  Tolle!  Tolle!
Crucifige eum.
Through you I wish to pray
To Him, beseeching Him
With mercy-seeking tears.
Be thou my messenger,
My wingèd Mercury.
Confusion conquers Spiriel.
Hurry, Faith!
Hurry to theSon of Man
Whom I have crucified.
Beseech Him.  Beseech Him
E're I lose thee.
Beseech Him:  Have mercy.

So pusillanimous am I.
My soul, why did I let you die?

O wondrous, fruitful man-growth,
Exceeding beauty have you,
But he who understands this not
Has labored to enslave you.

Impelled by need for happiness
This juvenile misused a good
And hurled that holy thing
Back into God's all-loving face.

I am that youth.

                        O Spiriel,
Where is the radiant light of grace;
Where is your vivifying friend,
The creature God extends
To fill the souls of reborn men?

A natural gift was wrongly used;
A supernatural gift diffused,
No, more than this--
It was expelled, cast out
Before/ a laughing viper's hiss.

Timidity, you weakling.
Unchanneled curiosity,
You devil in disguise.
Begone, double fault!

Attempt, attempt--
Attempt what?
So depressed is my spirit,
I can not free myself;
I cannot escape the hands of filth
Nor tear the heavy shades of night.

My soul, O my soul,
Unceasing are my tears--
Dewdrops of despair
Condensed by inner emptiness:--
And yet my course remains
Unchanged, remains unchanged.

O desolation unsurpassed! 



Seminary book intro / links to poems
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Spirit


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Brian A. J. Salchert