Poetry

I
 
When I was out and about
on the farm one day
tending the chickens,
mending a door
 
I heard a jolly tune being played
and maybe I was daydreaming
but I believe I had an apparition
of a noble man playing a harp.
 
II
 
I heard him sing
of the Guardian of heaven
playing on a string
in a merry tune to liven me up,
 
about the power of the Creator
who in wonder made angelic beings
greater than the fallen prosecutor
and the God that created man and all things
 
made the blue hued sky
the earth as man’s dwelling
even you and I
and the sun that’s rising
 
and his words were sweet and sincere
came into my heart precise and clear.
 
III
 
and then smiling at me lowering the harp
he said: “write lad,
write about anything
and let your words sing
 
about the sun’s rising
and about the beauty of spring.
Just write anything.”