Burton Bringing the House Down

On the voice of Richard Burton (cerdd dafod)

He didn’t want them to tell him

how it was going to be
so he stood back a
little from the stage of
burnished expectations

still,  with a force of fire
and wonder shaping

while the gossip mills
stepped up business trespassing,
so I think, out of sheer envy

on a
something received beyond they couldn’t endure:
transcendence made immediate- an impossible thing-
cut crystal net overfilled with singing birds that little tamed out of wildness
so vivid who could believe it anything
but the voice heard by the saints in dreams made more astute;
or dream-music half-retained by kings
on waking to another day
forgetting for a moment where they were
or what they had to do

wading through poor Richard aftermaths
we’ve heard enough from the queasy forerunners
others at the scene

quashing the keylight
you didn’t even need

and asking themselves if it was really you

making the pieces fit
until the stained glass shone
as if it were almost Light itself-

then swallowing it?

oh who can kill God inside himself-
He’ll only rise to pity your
thinking you’ve brought the whole
thing to a close when you’re really
only tugging at the stage sets.
even if you burn it down He’s
smoldering half in ashes with you,
willing it to end well…cracking at the edges-

you think by flooding it to the very
brink the soul will drown
and then you’ll show them it was

Yours, not theirs-

but fare-thee-well-
whatever the heart sounds like
translated into Welsh was yours-

stand fast in a shaft of Heaven’s light
only you can see declaiming everything at last
without saying a word-

mary angela douglas 20-21 november 2011