Cantique De Mesa Poem by Tom Billsborough

Here I lie in my burning chapel!
Surrounding me
On every side I see
A throng of torches standing sentinel.
Nor are they candles lit, but puissant stars
Great Virgins blazing before God's face,
Which, seen in adorations, bears such grace
As Mary declares herself unworthy.
And I, mankind, Intelligence, am lying
Prone upon the earth,
Preparing for my death
Upon a solemn bier now descending
Into this, the deepest deep of Universe,
The very middle of this immense bubble
Of stars where in a close huddle
Holds still your place, the devout faith.

And here I see collect the Night's vast clergy,
Its bishops and its Patriarchs
And up above my head stands stark
The lonely pole star, at my sides the very edge
And that equator curving out afar
Where reside the swarming animals
Of space, which one, unknowing, calls
The Milky Way... a binding lace, taut arch.

Not one of you, O brilliant ones, supports
The soul, but she alone


The earth.. the central one
Who, bearing forth her man exhorts
Your rapture, makes you turn your heads
Toward her like a million sheep..
She your shepherd, watcher of your sleep,
And your Messiah, singing for your dawn.