Flick Prophetic Finger

FLICK PROPHETIC FINGER Knocking hard on a massive ancient gate, Step out of a gaunt, granite building, Leave behind its austere contents, With wood-panelled box-seats, Pinching sardine-tight orthodoxy's rumps, Say farewell to enforced isolation, Corralled within a pulpit-facing pew, Flick prophetic finger At sanctimonious conformity, As I cross the widening threshold Into a welcome world of Confusing discovery. Give place in me to an individual, Questioning all from A to Z, Finding the new pathway, opened out To an approaching horizon. It holds My curious gaze beyond Present knowledge. I know with some deeper weight of understanding, Unhinged from the enclosed Constriction in which I have been A prisoner of my own choice. Now the chains sheared off, scales Fallen from once-blindfolded eyes, I, flying as the uncaged bird, Lift suddenly into free flight On instinctive weaving Of supple strength.