Jeffrey Hull

I draw the bow of reckoning
   And arrow of decision,
With target ever beckoning
   The arrow's cruel precision.

I strike the bell of time and space
   Through all the ages tolling,
As o'er this place with wispy grace
   The faery clouds are rolling.

I say the charm that charms all charms,
   Call forth the dragon's breathing:
The spell of sleep that harm disarms,
   Enchanted sight bequeathing.

The days are dark from mount to strand,
   The ranks of knights are thinning;
The king and land together stand
   As was from time beginning.

As will the new, the old ways die
   And dreams remain unwritten,
And by and by, both hip and thigh,
   Unrighteous men are smitten.

The bow of reckoning is drawn,
   The bell of time is pealing;
All knights are pawns as sure as dawn
   With souls in need of healing.

The knight will fail who seeks his Grail
   Devoid of heart's perfection;
The quest unveils in each detail
   A spirit's base abjection.

But on the stones and in our bones
   This truth in bold inscription:
"He ne'er disowns him who atones
   And follows His prescription."


© 2005 Jeffrey Hull