Pentecost Poem by Derek Walcott

Pentecost

Rating: 2.7


Better a jungle in the head
than rootless concrete.
Better to stand bewildered
by the fireflies' crooked street;

winter lamps do not show
where the sidewalk is lost,
nor can these tongues of snow
speak for the Holy Ghost;

the self-increasing silence
of words dropped from a roof
points along iron railings,
direction, in not proof.

But best is this night surf
with slow scriptures of sand,
that sends, not quite a seraph,
but a late cormorant,

whose fading cry propels
through phosphorescent shoal
what, in my childhood gospels,
used to be called the Soul.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Dr Antony Theodore 23 June 2020

Better a jungle in the head than rootless concrete. Better to stand bewildered by the fireflies' crooked street; the very first verses attracted my attention. thank you. t ony

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Michael Walker 25 July 2019

I like Walcott's religious allusions in 'Pentecost'. They give the poem a whole new dimension.

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Derek Walcott

Derek Walcott

Castries / St Lucia
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