Prohoros - in the Cave of the Apocalypse

apocrypha


In bitter, brittle, wind-honed light
the sage's searing visions come:
"There shall be teeming multitudes of men
where once were flocks and herds,
birds and beasts and creatures of the seas;
men shall be as pestilence and locusts
to the fragile earth, consuming all
voraciously, stripping the ample granary,
so that the birds take flight, alarmed,
wretched beasts retreat in fear, trees
like phantoms wither at the roots, then
disappear. The crystal seas shall putrefy
with sudden death, their wondrous creatures,
miracles of God's delight - blithe dolphins
and shy seahorses - will atrophy, when
the sun's eye, magnified, unrelenting
in its might, shall gather overpowering
intensity, and perish all...
Thus shall we witness what God's hand
has wrought..."

....................My master burned
with brimstone of his prophecies,
the ague of his visions and their awesome
might, and in the fitful, wintry light,
familiars cowered at his side, spirits
of the wounded earth, racked by impending
terror. I nursed these portents in my soul
but did not write. My avatar, that old,
frail saint inhabited by tragedy, who spoke
in tongues of God's wrath and God's mercy,
bestowed upon his humble scribe,
rewarding faithful hands and mind,
the secrets of his heart and eyes,
gifts of the second sight.



Patmos, 1999

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This poem appeared in the literary journal
'Antipodes' in 2012.