As We Risked Absurdity
Journeying through the storm
The Star Stands and waits
As we follow the sky
Toward that still higher perch
“Finding the Place; it was (you may say) satisfactory”1
Returning home to a place of new dispensation
Where the roots of commercialism hold strong
Where the ceremony of tradition is drowned
Where Christ himself climbs down a bare tree
Not to runaway
But to save the people from their sins
To bring Tradition back from its death defying leap
To make the falcon hear his falconer
To Make the Center Hold
“For he is the Super Realist”2
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem