The Light is a
I’m swept along
Broken & dashed
Against jagged rocks.
My blood becomes
One with the water,
Crimson ribbons flowing
Against its ebbing curves.
I become one with the water,
Brackish body soiling
Its silk-clear surface.
My soul rises from the water
A sapphire washed of impurities,
translucent with the kiss of sunrise.
You bore witness to Lachrymose visions of
Blackbirds shuttered off to ever-night cages,
White tides flooding municipal blocks,
Girls trading destinies for head or handcuffs,
Boys in suspended flight above sidewalks.
& while His lament sprouted lilies on arid lots
You again demanded an oracle and a sign.
He spoke the melody
of a Blues People;
each verse cascading
the ashes of history
& intoning the promise
of a tribe in a wilderness
that won’t say its name.
Cheated ravens depart screeching aloud.
The posse lumbers close behind;
lilly-white robes dull from seclusion
In back-wood rooms & halls,
Crunching boots concealing rotten soles.
As the figure in red-white plaid
Absently forms snowy shapes & words,
She watches the detente & dangling
Nylon link, it’s open maw swaying
In the breath of winter ides.