Awakening...
By shed of familial emblem
and mystical plume
the spirits of a hundred anthems
sheer are every ghost
left restless in this killing room
With nothing left to wonder
cold are the secrets of this wall,
grown thick with a heavy stillness
and names that cannot be erased
Was there ever any vision of god, heaven
or a country that could or would keep them all...
Arise... unfurled
The Divine
the mast of all tall-ships
that could hold every eye
to its own account of creation...
of some one thing that
no one would ever choose to destroy
Further, and farther away upon the
seas-- until lost from sight
like still-born psalms, caught
in the throat of dreams
Awakening...
the old man of the isle
opened his eyes
his heart in the ever-after
calling his children home,
upon a great ship that
all would call-- the Divine.
Peace,
Po
Author notes
Written October 2nd, 2006
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