Now Poem by Peter Eliastam

Now at the vortex, history descending,
The Philistines cavorting, whirling
As the day-dark discharge of the equine spasm,
Pale plasm of the maelstrom in triple trouble
Takes its course, we watch the Jordan winding
Lank and frail, swirling to the Dead Sea
Down where waters fail, Israel sinking.

Ah the peace-dove, far-fetched, flailing,
Speeding swiftly through the sky-domed air
In groundless grey reflections, jack-knifed home
Slams sudden, jolted, shuddering the window-pane;
Drops spreading, spangled into galaxies of
Steel-strung stars, bright crushed through bars,
The cortex and the skull, its fallacy aborting.

Sin at the centre pinnacle, pestilence
And tempest, the Philistines snorting, teeming
Treble tempered, taut, in the whinny of the
Wind-winged night, the light fine-tuned as the
Pallid steed and stench of foetid food feed mildew
To our mouth, reporting from our youth
That God is dead. Israel has been misled.

Now shall You prove, Your love supporting,
Your oracles unfailing, Your remnant returning,
Your bruised reed kept unbroken, Your mustard seed
And Your dimly burning wick, You do not quench.
The double-dead, in day-dream, would retrench
The heritage Your Word has spoken by the Word.
Yeshua, God! Defend us from their rage!