My Terrible Vocation

The sheer immensity of my relief

Was far beyond the scope of words alone.

When fear is gone the world is much too big

To be confined to poetry or song.

It takes time and endless vigilance to learn

That time will not give back the things we've lost

Or heal the open wounds their absence leaves.

Blood that fails to clot denies the past

Its proper destiny, and the heart that fails 

To memorise the life in full will feel the dread

Of vacancy deprive it of the right

To learn from its mistakes and mourn the dead.

"So this is your brown study!" The prison governor

Grinned all round my room. "Calamity

Is a word that ladies use." His favorite phrase,

He said, was teaching opportunity -

"And here's an opportunity to teach!

 You start tomorrow. There's nothing to prepare.

All wisdom emanates from suffering -

My motto is your theme and you will share

"Your anguish with a privileged elite

Of trustee lifers who'll appreciate

The epic grandeur of your sacrifice -

But don't expect them to reciprocate,

"Acknowledge or admit benign intent.

Weeping and bleeding are their secret shame.

Your missionary tears and fertile blood
Will make flowers bloom in deserts of wasted time."