Poem: “Prester John”


Prester John

Somewhere there’s a priest named Prester John
The answer to our prayers, our champion,
Though we know what heaven we require
It isn’t found on Earth, but somewhat higher –
He can pull it down and anchor it,
A giant air balloon, and there it sits

In a week or month it is forgotten,
The ropes are frayed, the envelope is rotten,
Heaven down to Earth is not a palace,
Sand comes through the stitches in the ballast –
Prester John has run away somewhere
And what of heaven – who let out the air?

Shabby is the heaven brought to Earth,
And what’s a heaven made in heaven worth?

September 13, 2011


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