Skip to main content

The King of Birds

My post in honour of national poetry day this year is actually a song from the album I mentioned yesterday, "Traces" by Karine Polwart. It is entitled "The King of Birds" and draws together allusions to the Celtic legend, the Battle of the Birds, the Occupy Movement camp at St. Paul's Cathedral in London, its architect Sir Christopher Wren, the Great fire of London that necessitated his great creation, the blitz, and the current economic crisis... all that encapsulated in a beautiful piece of poetry, set to a haunting melody... go buy...

At Ludgate Hill
On the cracked and blackened cobbles of the town
the ashes fall to rest
as the tiny King of Birds he flutters down
to build a citadel
to light glory in the dark
and from hell
to breathe hope in every heart

At Ludgate Hill
Through the siren screams the heavens burn again
the city holds its breath
as the tiny little king in slumber bed
arises from the dust
to light glory in the dark
and through the frost
to breathe hope in every heart

there are murmurs in the choir
there are whispers in the dome 
that the King of Birds is broken
on the altar of his home

At Ludgate Hill
where the towers of smoke and mirrors bruise the sky
the pilgims huddle in
as the tiny King of Birds begins to cry
the people start to sing
the light of glory in the dark
to ring the bell
to breathe hope in every heart

Shalom

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

LentArt: Washing the Disciples' Feet

Today's #LentArt post is "The washing of the disciples' feet" by Ghislaine Howard, another piece from the wonderful Methodist Modern Art Collection. It has clearly struck a chord with a number of people, and I am delighted that tonight's guest blog is by my friend and fellow 4 Corners Director, Father Martin Magill, who, he will be embarrassed to have me say, is for me the epitome of a servant leader. Indeed it was interesting to have a friend and artist respond to my earlier post saying that this time last year she remembers having her feet washed by Martin... How much has changed in a year: This painting (completed in 2004) was inspired by these words from the gospel of John in today's lectionary:  Jesus knew that the Father had delivered all things into His hands, and that He had come from God and was returning to God. So He got up from the supper, laid aside His outer garments, and wrapped a towel around His waist. After that, He poured water ...

Living under the Empire... (2) Where is Babylon?

We were driving back from school last week, talking about books that we had been reading and my younger son, Ciaran, asked me "Where is Babylon?" I have to confess that my history is better than my geography, and I said that it no longer exists as an inhabited city, but its ruins were to the north west of the current capital of Iraq, Baghdad. When I checked however, I discovered that it is actually about 50 miles south of Baghdad and the modern town is the administrative centre of the province of Babil... But just as the modern city is but a shadow of the historic capital of 2 ancient empires, first under Hammurabi in the 18th century BCE and then the "Neo-Babylonian" empire (under Nebuchadnezzar etc) in the 6th century BCE, so the earthly Babylonian empire/s was/were fleeting in comparison to the enduring metaphorical idea of Babylon. The original Empire under Hammurabi was probably the ultimate origin of some of the early Biblical stories, including the ...

A Woman of no Distinction

Don't often post other people's stuff here... But I found this so powerful that I thought I should. It's a performance poem based on John 4: 4-30, and I have attached the original YouTube video below. A word for women, and men, everywhere... "to be known is to be loved, and to be loved is to be known." I am a woman of no distinction of little importance. I am a women of no reputation save that which is bad. You whisper as I pass by and cast judgmental glances, Though you don’t really take the time to look at me, Or even get to know me. For to be known is to be loved, And to be loved is to be known. Otherwise what’s the point in doing either one of them in the first place? I WANT TO BE KNOWN. I want someone to look at my face And not just see two eyes, a nose, a mouth and two ears; But to see all that I am, and could be all my hopes, loves and fears. But that’s too much to hope for, to wish for, or pray for So I don’t, not anymore. Now I keep to myself And by that ...