THE PREROGATIVE TO DREAM (Briskly)

 

Without the labor of my folks

the USA would be

just another former colonial

penal colony.

Now they could argue the colonial prison

was for the common good —

except they built it in somebody else’s neighborhood.

 

My folks have got no money

my grand-folks even less —

but what they’ve earned is a greater portion

of soulful humanness.

 

And what’s the gift of humans?

The Prerogative to Dream!

So up from the shoulders of brotherhood

we rise to the top like cream.

 

Without the spirit of my folks

the USA would be

just another former colonial

penal colony.

Now they could argue the colonial prison

was for the common good —

except they built it in somebody else’s neighborhood.

 

MICHAEL

 

We long to see God face to face.

No, we expect it, muddy boots

notwithstanding.

 

Semele, bless her soul, just this

demanded; burnt her to a crisp,

did the Glory.

 

And Arjuna on bended knee,

the radiance of Krishna’s form

could not he bear.

 

But Michael whispered in my ear

the secret: how to recognize

the face of God,

 

The One who walks incognito

among us, yearning to be known

for our own sake;

 

Who wears a mask to shield our flesh

from immolation; beaming love

through human eyes.

 

How will we recognize tomorrow

the face we dare not see today?

Our reflection...

 

THE WORD FROM THE BIRD

 

I guess that’s all for now.

Some other time

we’ll talk about the sky

of Hartwood Road

and the little bird within it,

on a wire

above me, singing out

his little heart

to show me how it’s too

impossible

for Life to exist in Not-Life.

How he sang!

and sent the fierce vibration

of his song

into the future, through

the medium

of my poor memory,

and of my joy