Perceval almost pierced the veil,
never uttered a Christ-laced curse.
Purity of heart is to will one thing,
wrote Kierkegaard before the churchyards
turned charnel houses in excruciated Europe.
Was it a Lapis Exilis, mother meteorite,
or a lapis lazuli dish set with wished-
for cuts of fresh meat in a famine culture,
or a cup that caught the red of revelation?
Chrétien de Troyes recounted the trials,
but I trust no poet pimping a tale.
I figure the Grails were detours en route
to a single failure, and all this suffering
night after night in shining ardor,
in rosary-haunted Brocéliande,
just served to stir the gallant heart
of a Galahad to attempt and test
truth by joust, pursuing the relic, the elixir
on a pilgrim trail to the impossible castle.
As a bony boy, a squirt of a squire,
I imagined its magic in verbal terms,
an infinite inkwell, a song Sangraal,
heartsblood held in the mouth’s round
brimmed, overbrimmed, meniscal cupola.
Wondering whether my words were worthy.
I sallied forth in search of a form,
May the poem, grasped and penned, be the Grail
sustaining hearts healed for a spell,
fed in their hunger not heavenly manna
but humbly kneaded human bread.
The Grail Quest
More: Poetry
Show Comments ()
The latest from america
This week on “Preach,” the Rev. Peter Wojcik, the pastor of St. Clement Church in Chicago, Ill., preaches for the Sixth Sunday of Easter, Year B, and shares strategies for preaching to a parish of mostly young adults.
“His presence brings prestige to our nation and to the entire Group of 7. It is the first time that a pope will participate in the work of the G7,” Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni said.
“Many conflicting, divergent and often contradictory views of the human person have found wide acceptance … they have led to holders of traditional theories being cancelled or even losing their jobs,” the bishops said.
Robots can give you facts. But they can’t give you faith.