Thursday, June 2, 2016

Before the Grail quest

His soul hollowed
The land suffered
As if by a disaster
Becoming a wasteland
His subjects grieved his pain
His body was drained of light
As if tormented by cancer
While in prayer and meditation
He came to know the truth
That only the holy chalice
Could restore him
With his body and soul
Completely restored
So to the land and people
Would return to life
His mind as sharp as a knife
He knew the answer
King Arthur called for a quest
To find this holy chalice
Surely a major trial
A great test
Of skill and honor
His knights were scattered
Across Albion
Word was sent to them all
They first gathered to hear Arthur's call
For a crusade to find the artifact
They'd need wisdom, brains
But mostly a warrior's guile
Then they were made to know
Seer Merlyn's word and calling
They'd ride carrying their banner
Their shields announcing their title
They'd serve their high king of the land
Simple warriors they were not
These were knights of the realm
Of Camelot, the domain of Arthur
Given land, a keep,
And the right to bear arms
They were sent
To accomplish an impossible act
To find one item
Smaller than a helmet
Known to few
The cup used
To catch the drops of blood
That flowed from the wounds
Of the Christ
Making the chalice so holy
It would restore others
By the echoes of blood
From the body of Christ

Lord Tennyson
Holy Grail poem

`Nay,' said the knight; `for no such passion mine.
But the sweet vision of the Holy Grail
Drove me from all vainglories, rivalries,
And earthly heats that spring and sparkle out
Among us in the jousts, while women watch
Who wins, who falls; and waste the spiritual strength
Within us, better offered up to Heaven.'