William Burford
A NEW GOLIATH
The giant stares around the sky and finds
No one, nothing, not a face above him
Smiling sure stature of some greater
Greatness. The time is sunshine, and
This means no mastery. No man under
The sun is taller than he. And the sun
Itself is just the right size in its distance
To be said to be the equal of his eye.
It rises lower than his sleep, and sets
Below his supper. In between it is his eye.
There is another view, though, of the world
Than this Goliath's, another in-between
Of moon and star, moonlight and starlight,
Higher by a darkness than the sun, more
Mortal traveller who slides, kinglike,
Out of his day; not fading, stationary
As the little man, into the welcome
Reign of dawn. Oh night, you fatal interlude
'Whose each star is a stone that throws
Down giants, kindness 'comes from your sling.
The severed head of the terrible Philistine
Wears not anguish, but a smile.
He found, like one who looks for love
Up in the sky, love at his feet;
And he bent his forehead to the accurate
Stone. His is the age-old tale of those
Who lose their heads from love. Go, Goliath,
Down through legend such a man. You step
On cloth of stars that is your turban too.
Your eye and greatest jewel is now your wound.
