Of Magic And Mystery

The last section in Best-Loved Poems is called "Of Magic And Mystery" and it's a little more straightforward than some of the others in that many of the poems clearly have some sort of spiritual content though I confess bewilderment at the inclusion here of one of my favourites - Lewis Carroll's Jabberwocky.

Still to finish with a little flourish I have two poems for you. The first, The Atheists Lament, is brand new and the second, Strange Empire, a few years old. The latter may need some explanation but I'm not going to give any. You can work out the meaning for yourself. Why should I do all the work.

The Atheists Lament

In this modern England,
This multi-cultured isle,
We are built of many faiths from many lands.
Christians, Jews and Moslems
Hindus, Sikhs and more
And all of them agree that I am damned.
Some people worship one god
Though they give him different names
Others have whole pantheons and worship many
The one thing that unites them
Is that some god must be worshipped
And your soul will burn forever if you do not worship any.

Strange Empire

There are no fixed points here
In this Empire of the mind,
No guides to lead us from
The country of the blind.
The heavens hold no patterned truth.
Their mystery is a pedlar's lie.
No greater world stands out of view
Hidden beyond the speckled sky.

Evrything is a lie.
The words upon the page - a lie.
The ink that stains then fades - a lie.
The hand that neatly writes - a lie.
That mind that tries to guide - a lie.
There is no mind,
No hand,no pen, no ink
No words
No matter what we think.
Everything is a lie.

There are no fixed points here
In this Empire of the stranger,
No gimballed compass set in brass
To lead us out of danger.
The turned boards, the swirling leaves,
The crystal ball, the bones that fall
Are lies that act as reason's thieves
Wise men distrust them all.

Everything is a lie.
The stars seen through the glass - a lie.
The days and hours that pass - a lie.
The masquerades of life - a lie.
The freedom of the knife - a lie.
There is no knife,
No life, no time, no stars
No matter who we are.
Everything is a lie.