Re: The poetry of Philip Britts

DISTRACTION
 
The wisdom of the prophet
And his words of gold
Surged around my brain
And away they rolled;
Though I set my mind to hear them
They brushed at me and flew,
Because my spirit did not feel
The things the prophet knew.
 
The wisdom of the prophet
And his ringing words
Said less to my ears
Than the song of birds,
Because all the bird-wings
Beat about my ears
With sea winds and breakers
And loneliness and tears.
 
I went out from the prophet
And his drumming word,
Groping in the darkness,
Shaken and stirred;
For my spirit was full
Of the sad wild birds
Of people grieving
Beyond all words.
 
I could not longer listen
To the prophet's words,
For my ears were filled
By the wings of birds,
Of weary, living people
Beyond the weary sea,
Bleeding and crying
Because they are not free.
 
Philip Britts, 2 November, 1941