Wednesday, August 1, 2012

mend


I heard the mountains move
I watched them as I crumbled

Father...—You speak as my head,
gently cradled, disappears beneath
the bandage You spun
The grave did I fear but
from ashes I rose
and from a death I once embraced, You
took me warmly to Your arms, and
as intransient ghost, I slipped through the soil into
a world beyond bone, beyond flesh and
in passing death I breathed
life into my lungs and this
skin became home to something beating—
zealous, throbbing soul.

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