Clay Pigeon

Clay pigeon                                                                                       
 
Forty years wandering the desert.
I thought I was getting somewhere.
 
I was just pacing the length of my cell.
Dropping to my knees, I made it a prayer cell.
 
Later, I began to listen instead of ask.
I know now why the clay pigeon sings –
 
in anticipation (once the blood is drained)
of becoming the broken and singing dust (o Francis!)
 
though the natural wont of dust
is to settle quietly at the Beloved’s feet.
 
I sing this verse at His request and only
to the One Who gave it to me (I sing my best)
 
while He sees to its being further given away
to whomever’s heart He wishes its melody to touch.
 
O child of God, become quiet as dust
to hear Meher’s heart-rending song of silence.