Britain is sweltering under an early summer heatwave, breaking records for May temperatures today. It’s the kind of weather where you expect Hobbits to appear seeking to destroy a Ring in the heat. A picnic under the shade of trees in Bute Park in Cardiff today was the occasion of the photo above, with fierce sun through the leaves.
Yesterday I got sunburned from standing outside in the sun in Hay-on-Wye, so my arms are sore and red. Sunday was also Pentecost, when Christians remember the sending of the Holy Spirit to Jesus’ disciples after he ascended into Heaven. So all that went into the mix of inspiring the words below.
Also just to note, I hope to share soon the recording of my talk on Science Fiction as Modern Mythmaking from Hutchmoot, so keep an eye on your inbox for that!
Son Burn
Still it burns
My skin turned raw-red
From some ninety-three
Million miles
Our home star
Scorching hands and arms and legs
On some
Overeager summer May
Fierce Pentecost
Rightly named
Sun Day
Yet fiercer still
Is the Son’s light
Nearer, as suffusing
All things
And unscreened we would
be by glory
much more burned
Yet other hands and legs and arms
were pierced not by rays
but nails
And now new flame
is sent to screen
and save
To lighten and with that
Glory blaze
So we with Son’s passion
Are burned
But not consumed.
Love your poem and beautiful picture. For me Pentecost is so special in the Christian calender, the ultimate culmination. The birth, the life and teachings, the death, resurrection, and ascention, all for what? '... with that Glory blaze.'
Thanks for the poem, Peter.
Of all the days in the Christian calendar, Pentecost strikes writers and artists particularly strongly—because tongues of flame and impassioned words can turn to prophecy and renewal.
All the best to you and your family, Ted Cleary