Before Luther birds
sang chorales, waiting
And men leaning
forward, waiting, leaning
forward. Cried, God
let it happen
let it be
whatever, no matter, Oh!
Pressed, suppressed must blast,
thought ever detained escape.
Across earth passed
a shiver shifting all
torsos to other legs
And the birds
flew off individually.
Now birds sense new flight,
feathers ruffle and heads
crane high. New directions
are contained in new winds.
The planet passes into
other shadows, orbits
redefine being but
slowly. Cry, God
(leaning forward)
otherwise Cry, Mayor
(leaning forward)
otherwise Cry, Mother
otherwise otherwise, Ache
let it happen
let it be
whatever, no matter, Oh!
Leave a Reply