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The Second Coming ~ By Irish Poet W. B. Yeats

Going dark for this next poem which I’ve been pondering for a very long time. Very deep and mysterious, full of obscure references and meanings, so typical of Yeats. He wrote it just over 100 years ago in 1919 when the old order of things were unraveling before his eyes. Now in our time, does the “second coming” seem any closer? It may very well be… The Second Coming By William Butler Yeats (1865-1939) Turning and turning in the widening gyre    The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere    The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst    Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand.    The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out    When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert    A shape with lion body and the head of a man,    A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,    Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it    Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.    The darkness drops again; but now I know    That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,    And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,    Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born? #poetry #poem #wbyeats #prophecy #secondcoming #endoftheword