672
Stephen Spender
MADONNA
Below the scallop shell
Of the fanned sky
The clear girl
is
seated.
Her eyes like flowers
Are thought by the seed
Buried in her body.
Her flesh
is
a cloud
Enfolding her gold son.
The life in her life
Crouching to be born
Is head downwards
In a dark room.
Inner flesh of peace
Withdrawn from the world
And dreaming the Real,
While the abstract Furies
Hunt the cities outside.
Her heaven divides
The world into two worlds–
Of kings who bring myrrh
To worship this birth.
0~
Herods whose rays
Murder
in
the womb
Prenatal generations
Of reincarnate earth.
Her child says: Choose!
