Is this world truly fallen?
They say no.
For there's the new moon, there's the Milky Way,
There's the
rattler with a wren's egg in its mouth,
And there's the panting rabbit they
will eat.
They sing their wild hymn on the dark slope,
Reading the stars
like notes of hilarious music.
Is this a fallen world? How could it
be?
And yet we're crying over the stars again,
And over the
uncertainty of death,
Which we suspect will divide us all forever.
I'm
tired of those who broadcast their certainties,
Constantly on their cell
phones to their redeemer.
Is this a fallen world? For them it is.
But
there's that starlit burst of animal laughter.
The day has sent its fires
scattering.
The night has risen from its burning bed.
Our tears are proof
that love is meant for life
And for the living. And this chorus of
praise,
Which the pet dogs of the neighborhood are
answering
Nostalgically, invites our answer, too.
Is this a fallen world?
How could it be?
~ Mark
Jarman ~
(The Atlantic, May
2003)
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