Agape is summoned as sitting in a circle
We pass the loving-cup from left to right
Soft words with harmonious music
Transforming sight to insight
We set aside restraint of narrative
Time is not one singular straight line
The mind’s conceptions know no end
But tenderly return to others –
We are no ‘club’ mankind can recognise
We practice an inclusion so transparent
As to prove invisible – as stars
Long dead but on the world still shining
Our poems are not photos of the family
Charming chums nor keepsakes of a country
Accessible by rail nor air nor car
They are not card-tricks puzzle-rings nor jigsaws
The human race some have been running for
Or from in seeking out ‘the hidden god’ –
His face is framed in every being’s face
Her face is in creation’s open smile
No need of vision from a far horizon
The floating bridge of dream is harboured here
The Golden Fleece has fled the ship of state
To walk by common speech in every street
Bernard Saint
Illustration: Claire Palmer
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