Friday, November 18, 2011


Harvey S. Mozolak

the royal
quite separate
removed and at distance
from us
who hang about
waiting for some small chance
or fleeting moment
to see the passing by
hear the ring of ornamentation
the scent of as yet uncreated
perfume of purity’s perfection
and be brushed by hem of holiness
from a swaged gown of glory
the crown so high and bright
its glare surmounting clouds and storm
above our mud-sodden track and trod
and yet
who is this that is hung
before us?
pictured in pathetic pity
icon of God imaged
in a barn maiden’s motherhood
he clutching hold of life
draining nail by nail
from his hands
feet faltering to climb
the tree of death’s fall
leafless naked curled by cruelty
one not separate
but culled a lamb
among the goats
depart cursed
to prepare
for the starving strange
stripped sick and captive
the new unequalled kingdom

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