Wounded Lands: Some Strange Beauty

Some Strange Beauty

The scene was set: an emerald field
An island of barbwire shores
The swollen cow crawled to the shade
To birth the calf she bore
Through the winter’s lidless nights
To a spring of bitter scorn

The mezzanine: an old dead tree
In the center of the field
Where eager vultures did await
What red curtain would reveal
From the winter’s lidless nights
And the ever judging cold

Blossom, defenseless life unveiled
A pretty flower quickly plucked
As beak and talons hungry clasped
Tearing open all so soft
Beyond the winter’s lidless nights
Death of youth brings life to old

Some strange beauty
I cannot define
Some strange beauty
Grotesque… and yet divine?

The spectator: the farmer’s son
Young and prone to wander stray
Stained his eyes upon the scene
Of ravaged wonder dawn displayed
And innocence of sheltered love
Fell from crutch that cool spring day

Bowl of oatmeal turning cold
His mother buttoned his dress shirt
The ritual now so revealed
As tolled the bell over the church
And innocence of sheltered love
Felt now the draft of uncertainty

Pale he sat on crowded pew
While loved ones praised the grace of god
And he recalled the morning scene
And silent cried his heart appalled
And innocence of sheltered love
Peered on wounded and betrayed

Some strange beauty
I cannot define
Some strange Beauty
Unnerving to resign