Poem: Phos Hilaron at Camp McDowell, 2006

PHOS HILARON:O Gracious Light

                I

Upon the high porch

Jutting ravine-ward out among tree-tops

The restless priest

Avoids again occasional conformity to

Sacerdotal norms,

Avoids the worn pages and familiar Book and

Instead

Beholds the approaching line of thunderstorms.

He fancies himself

A night bird of some sort,

Or bat,

Or flitting insect seeking refuge from the storm,

All crying out in praise, in wonder, or alarm.

                 II

Margins of memory

Lightning illuminates

Fragments of psalmody

Snatched from the dark.

Lightning their vesper-light

Thunder their antiphon

Magnifies murmuring

Storm-stirred leaf choir.

             III

With the rain, all the elements are present:

Fire; earth; wind; and water;

Phos hilaron; psalmody; canticle; and chapter.

Rude light

Interrupting the polite

Mating rituals of the night.  

            IV

 O gracious lightning

Pure flashing brightness

O Jesus Christ

Word made light

Flesh made fire

Electric blood

Shed for many life forms

Shed by many life forms

Electrocuted life forms

Electrocuted norms

Spread and splashed in these jagged lines,

Spattered and slashed across strip-mined hills,

O Jesus Christ, scouring the limestone rock,

Mining the air, refining the elements, rendering them

Into one, solitary flare,

A single lamp,

Around which apocalyptic insects flit and cry like drunken angels:

“Be praised by happy voices!”

                        V

So let no unhappy voice be heard on all this holy mountain!

Let the doomed insects be happy!

Let the hungry bats return to their dens content!

Let the restless leaves be content.

Let the restless storm pass on

And be content,

With this evening phos hilaron.   

      Camp McDowell

      Nauvoo, Alabama

      2006