Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO A WELSH MYSTIC, by ARTHUR GLYN PRYS-JONES


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TO A WELSH MYSTIC, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Your eyes inspire: they draw their clear conviction
Last Line: As I have seen him at your clear windows.
Subject(s): Mysticism; Soul; Travel; Wales; Journeys; Trips; Welshmen; Welshwomen


YOUR eyes inspire: they draw their clear conviction
From rivers which run deeper than the soul.
There is no storm, no wrack that can engulf you,
No night of tempest that can make you quail.
You are serene and glorious,
You stand like a lighted house at nightfall
On a desolate moor, with hope in all your windows
For the tired traveller.
Death is your brother, a kindly one and knightly,
There is no terror in his tread, his hands are warm
With bearing your own folk gently through his portals.

You see clearly across the threshold
Into new realms ... the place of many mansions:
You see the haven of healing ... men blind with misunderstanding
Gaining sight. They are like little battered ships
Resting in calm waters—waiting to voyage onward.

You are alive ... and dead,
Crossing and recrossing with the tides,
Your hands are full of miracles, your mouth of wonders;
Your very presence is peacefulness.

From your lips falls faith,
I stoop to gather it to my own heart
To make me brave, to help me serve:
I would that the Christ could gaze through my eyes
As I have seen Him at your clear windows.





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