Saturday Morning Cereal: H.D.

from "The Walls Do Not Fall" by H. D.

excerpts from [4]

so I in my own way know
that the whale

can not digest me:
be firm in your own small, static, limited

orbit and the shark-jaws
of outer circumstance

will spit you forth:
be indigestible, hard, ungiving,

so that, living within,
you beget, self-out-of-self,

selfless,
that pearl-of-great-price.

excerpts from [8]

but if you do not even understand what words say,

how can you expect to pass judgement
on what words conceal?

[18]

The Christos-image
is most difficult to disesntangle

from its art-craft junk-shop
paint-and-plaster medieval jumble

of pain-worship and death-symbol,
that is why, I suppose, the Dream

deftly stage-managed the bare, clean
early colonial interior,

without stained-glass, picture,
image or colour,

for now it appears obvious
that Amen is our Christos.

excerpt from [33]

let us not teach
what we have learned badly

and not profited by

[39]

We have had too much consecration,
too little affirmation,

too much: but this, this, this
has been proven heretical,

too little: I know, I feel
the meaning that words hide;

they are anagrams, cryptograms,
little boxes, conditioned

to hatch butterflies. . .

poets.org: H. D.