He Shall Reign
I have two thoughts. Beauty will not save the world and a child is crying behind me. It is the second Sunday of Advent. Christ is coming soon, already incarnate in Mary’s earthly womb. Everyone is glancing behind them, irritated. The climax of Handel’s Messiah is near and is being ruined by wailing. Beauty will not save the world, beauty doesn’t even sustain the world. Of course, it always tries. The squalling reverberates through the cathedral stone completely off key. The piercing is painful, dreadfully painful. One day, I do believe we will be saved for beauty (that is what the theologian says,) our eyes will be open, but for now, why can’t that baby quit it’s goddam crying so we can listen to the praise?
"why can’t that baby quit it’s goddam crying so we can listen to the praise?" Love it! Children like ambulance sirens give all the love you seek in a cathedral😁
Took me right to the moment with this one—I feel like I can imagine it all, from the stiff wooden pews to the candles flickering around the Cathedral! Also, I think it's great that you wrote the poem on Substack, but also included the typed version. I'll probably borrow that in my endless fight against Substack's formatting. Good stuff