{"id":1966,"date":"2012-12-21T10:57:24","date_gmt":"2012-12-21T15:57:24","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/stlydias.org\/blog\/?p=1966"},"modified":"2012-12-21T10:57:24","modified_gmt":"2012-12-21T15:57:24","slug":"made-to-measure","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/2012\/12\/made-to-measure\/","title":{"rendered":"Made to Measure"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>by Stephen Edgar<\/p>\n<div id=\"poem\">\n<div>Impossible to wield<br \/>\nThe acreage of the fabric that unfolded,<\/div>\n<div>Slung from his shoulders like a crumpled field:<\/div>\n<div>The distance from one Christmas to the next<\/div>\n<div>When he was only seven<\/div>\n<div>Was aching there; a foreign city flexed<\/div>\n<div>Among the ripples; a face, the star-shocked heaven<\/div>\n<div>About his flailing arms were shrugged and moulded.<\/div>\n<div>Too heavy to outrun,<\/div>\n<div>Too slow to measure what it underwent,<\/div>\n<div>Though gradually the passage of the sun,<\/div>\n<div>Unmanageable in its train of light,<\/div>\n<div>Seemed almost to respond<\/div>\n<div>As he yanked the yards of stuff in like a kite<\/div>\n<div>And gathered the brocade that trailed beyond<\/div>\n<div>His arms&#8217; reach to the scale of measurement,<\/div>\n<div>However strange the weave<\/div>\n<div>That writhed about the working of his hands:<\/div>\n<div>The footage too atrocious to believe,<\/div>\n<div>Printed with corpses; Greece; the falls of salmon;<\/div>\n<div>Her upturned silken wrist<\/div>\n<div>He would have torn out history to examine;<\/div>\n<div>His father&#8217;s final blessing, which he missed.<\/div>\n<div>However far he comes or where he stands,<\/div>\n<div>At last, and limb by limb,<\/div>\n<div>Contour by contour, that unfolded cape<\/div>\n<div>Settles ever more fittingly on him.<\/div>\n<div>His forehead is the line of the sky&#8217;s vault,<\/div>\n<div>His shoulders trace the ground,<\/div>\n<div>His palms the ways he wandered by default,<\/div>\n<div>And in his gestures those he knew are found.<\/div>\n<div>What shape the day discovers is his shape.<\/p>\n<p>&#8211;<em>Read at St. Lydia&#8217;s on December 9, 2012<\/em><\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>by Stephen Edgar Impossible to wield The acreage of the fabric that unfolded, Slung from his shoulders like a crumpled field: The distance from one Christmas to the next When he was only seven Was aching there; a foreign city flexed Among the ripples; a face, the star-shocked heaven About his flailing arms were shrugged [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[9],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1966"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1966"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1966\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1967,"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1966\/revisions\/1967"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1966"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1966"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1966"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}