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(come)

thousands, millions
feet pounding
approaching:
distant thunder, waves breaking
a seawall poised to fall before the storm.


pipers, these feet climb hills
surround the valley
i stand mired in clay, encased by earth
i am helpless
i am spirit Witnessed
flesh
i am flesh Entreated
soul (come to me)
these pipers play impending honor
(come)
while we can save our lives leave this place
intact, there is much to Be;
in pieces we are no more than feet or hills that rise,
smooth slopes
no sense
horizons other feet may climb, may not
Selves less than single spreaded face of rain.


holds this vale encampéd gatherers
where pipers march to join the Host
who wait to bless a pall before this time is done
i am spirit Witnessed
flesh (come)
i am flesh Entreated
soul (come to me)
these tents are vast and beautiful
silk pennants strung above the lines beat whipping sounds
to slap the wind
(come)
while we can save our lives
(come to me) leave this perch
this place of endings where we own no role
lift up our souls in praise of what we know
redeem this flesh before it makes new silks
that dumbly dress another lonely pause
while pipers march
and not a bird is found alive to celebrate
what next will frame the hills in black and red.

© 16 October 2006, Sugarpie Rabbit | Previously here
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