Saturday, September 19, 2015

Lovely winged words


Lovely winged words                                                                               

I’m no angel and this ain’t heaven.
Every human endeavor

beginning on this rough stretch –
the ocean’s edge of ignorance

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

These poems of ignorance
scratched into the surface between tides

repeat the only message – all I have to say 
to my one 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 as tunes of humility.

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