Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Apothesion of the Ocean XIV

Colossus quondamque futurus[1]

A reflection on the greatest nation in the world, tied with Poland. An appropriate piece for future Independence Day celebrations.

The cynics show the tarnish settled upon
the lady’s bronze arms, gilded green with
money’s color. They show the perversions
admitted by doctors, bankers, teachers, to
spread disease, theft, and ignorance, that
bind Liberty in heavy web and grinding chains,
from private anguish to hellish spectacle by
glass eye converted, all-present and controlling.

And though the golden door seems more
battered by rams made at home, by storms
that needed not wreck the house, divide it so,
though the hinges seem to creak with painful
groan, that speaks of long neglect and selfishness:
yet still the multitude of world crams the door
and noble threshold of this land.

                                                  Yes! Still the
citizenship of this republic has the weight of gold,
and gleams as gem holy and unknown: key to
privilege enjoyed by none other, to belong to
and be defended by the greatest sword, longest
trident of the world. Though tarnished in our
eyes by constant stream of grime and filth, the
millions seek and see the Dream of father’s lore,
that is between the silver stars and blue of seas,
in the earth that raises wheat oceans and promise
of beginning.

                     Hope long abandoned as child’s
play, as story to shroud the sad state of things,
is gathered as treasure, as Christ’s pearl and
close to heart caressed, to serve as balm, sweet
reminder when those here already fling abuses.
Thus my father twenty one years mixed his toil
with this land, made it his own by work of hands
and constancy of heart. Here he founded with
mother our family, and within short time matched
those at home in happiness and prosperity. Such
power did God give to this nation, to use mere
widow’s penny as foundation of empire! O Lord,
I still feel the heat, if see not the fire, of this star
amidst the nations - if misguided, then slowly
righted, and with it the rest of nation-family.

Let Liberty remember her mother, Charity,
and honor her father, Justice, with shake of
shackles, that loosen old and dreadful bonds.
For if she but liberate herself, she will ope wide
the solemn portal she guards of shining future
for the poor and forgotten of the world.

[1] In Latin, “The Once and Future Colossus”

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