THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS

Will I reattain as it was written
The ocean where crystals shatter and drip
A will-o’-the-wisp with magic lantern
The westering shrouds of a mourning ship?

Will I be arrested on the waters
Carried off to the strand of the dead
Among the willows by the river
Where the grass is scattered and the shadows are fled?

The quality of majesty in a jealous god
To leave an amnesty in his will
Miscellaneous chaos still takes its toll
The cannons sound across the hill

The smoking candle, the sounding bell
Written and arrested as it shall be
While one skull wanders in search of a ring
The other stares open-mouthed at me