The Prayer
LISTEN NOW
In this ravaged forest
I am the hunter
Rousing the dead
Steadily, my stick is long and prodding
Others join me sweeping the ground
Opening green pristine burial mounds
we work swiftly cracking the stones
Where the unclotted blood knows freedom
dead and dying we ride each rise and fall
cushioned beneath us
galloping the earth is learning
the names of the dead
and dismounting, ears to the soil
all of this clawing
my nails, piercing the white stoney skeleton
they will not shred you the dying
they have eyes inside you
this century of dying
does not expire
in the morning the waves
pounding, pounding
this the crying the crying
The crying the crying
the crying
I cannot will myself to die
the landscape forbids it denies it
here is the veiled pieta?
he holds him, two bodies in comma in silent staccato
his death dwelling where she rests
finally sighing
have you seen her this Madonna
of death's blessings?
can you ring her text her
Provide her do you
Sleep while she weeps
Clawing the sky
Amen