(from The Gospel of Gargoyle)

‘Was staring into space. As usual.
I sniffed a rancid smell like smoke
And turning saw the strangest thing –
Grey feathers growing out of cracks
And rising higher from the roof
Sucked up by some great force.
A crowd below were looking up –
Tips of flame licked through
Like orange smoke – suddenly
I was aware, rapt –
Gold glare of window glass –
As if the sun was trapped inside
This dull cathedral carcass
Then shrieks of flame shot up –
O gloria I danced with glee!
Such ferox, fiery freedom –
My spirit yelping in its shell
As if inferno could force it
Into another body, another life.
Street-throng mesmerised –
Colossus of their childhoods! –
Great cot of memories! –
Its thorax threatening to crash.

‘Night sultrified, blue flicker
Of fire engines. Inferno roared,
Bateaux mouches slowed the Seine.
Such crowds, candles … I heard
Songs, as of mothers at a tomb,
Again and again the words rose high –
Viens, sois ma lumière, mon feu d’amour …
Donne-moi leurs âmes, j’ai soif d’amour!
J’ai soif d’amour.
I thirst for love.

James Harpur has published eight books of poetry and is a member of Aosdána. His new book, The Gospel of Gargoyle, is published by The Eblana Press