Drinking from the Holy Grail
We must taste both the pleasures and pains of life
He hands us a cup of sorrows
to drink — we can pick it up any time
as we walk the dusty road.
For some, its taste comes early
porcelain-yellow & jaundiced
life hard from its inception —
while others drink only at life’s end
sun setting on a pleasant story
with only the meagrest of regrets.
I touched those tears early
never lost their salty taste
nor a glimpse of a
world in all its dazzling glory.
Mottled shades greet all ages
yet the cat still nuzzles my face
& suns rise until stored away by the black
crest of night as it turns tail.
I can only surmise I received
a VIP invitation to the party.
Pleasure and pain are
the twin agencies of teaching
holding us in their fingers
turning until we are cooked through
& know the heat of love’s final flame.
In the end, He will burn us no longer.
Copyright Simon Heathcote
Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this poem, be sure to follow our publication for more thought-provoking and inspiring pieces.
