The Taken . . .

They waited long upon the silent lambs of peace

Captured the possession and the blind ones’ purse

Hidden but linked to an heir and by fairest fields pursued

They wandered ever onward in sightless passioned flight

Comings of walls and their tearing down to dust

Opened the mysteries which from countless ages followed

Yet still they waited not carried by love’s vicarious stripes

All gone astray in deceitful paths each coveting heart

Seeing not the part that with the bad, lambs found their rest 

Amongst the transgressors they knew them not

Nor understood the perfect glory of their disgrace

Un-esteemed of them that thought they knew his name

Cleavings of a stony heart and clouds depart

From what was lost and wasted love was raised to fill

The gap and rushed up from a buried deep between the

Ranks and fortresses of all age-beleaguered thought 

Followed by a foolish few the broken blind were linked

For them love’s patterned words that let the light shine in

Pierced through they shone for those that went beneath 

And torn the blind ones’ purse by perfect mystery known 

None but the seeing blind would think wealth lay in loss

And bliss could be in being turned the other way around

That the purse contained the means of being back to front

Blind-silent lambs of peace all those made perfect from it

Out from the darkest depths they then appeared

And set against a sky of night were as newborn stars

For which we had waited

No more a disfiguring cup of trembling in their hand

Theirs now the day and ‘the-thought-they-saw’ the night

Roles reversed the mighty from their thrones removed

Crowds roared while the freed broken-open cheered

Which travelling faster than the speed of light

Spun the world about, as inner life turned inside out

And the dark was light, where all the world was new