Friday, November 25, 2005

The Bird’s Skeleton Is A Boat

Name the ship sparrow, dry spindle of wings--row, my son row.
October’s field of grass is a dry sea. Nailed to the tree
there’s a white card, a woman with a head full of snakes--
"to find God one must burn." My head is a fire, nothing is holy.
In Revelation it states: angels sit at the right side so full of love
they become flame, ash, ignite, begin again. Underneath the wing,
the sparrow is a church. All good crows disguise themselves as birds.
The holy are drowning themselves in ordinary days.
They are walking in fields. I’ve spent a lifetime with fire.
I cannot find prayer. My head is water. It’s time to launch the ship.
It's time to feed the sparrow--burn, my child burn.


William said...

Keep up the good work, I will be back to check on your new updates. Incredible job! I have a blog/website that
might interest you

small wooden boat

Chris Moonbeams said...

Greetings, I was reading some blogs and came across your blog. I'm quite impressed , with how it has a good feel. This is one to watch.


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