Saturday, September 19, 2015

Lovely winged words

Lovely winged words

I'm no angel and this ain't heaven;
every human endeavor

beginning in this rough patch,
ocean's edge of ignorance

where nothing grows; soon swept away
to what surely looks like dissolution and calamity.

These poems of ignorance
between tides scratched into the surface

repeat the message, all I have to say
to my potential overhead rescuer:  HELP!

Angels, perhaps, have their choice
of lovely winged words, singing

God's praises; floating about heaven
but I'm no angel and this ain't heaven.

O child of God, even your impudent, raucous cries,
the angels say, reach God's ears as tunes of humility.

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