I see your wings are made

of many kingdoms,

nations, and stories

oh glowing bird of midnight love,

lovely lyricist

of daybreak and nightjoy.

My knees were two

bleeding bones

painting pain

upon desert stone

when your shadow

pulled the sun

beneath its tongue

of bold dark miracles

and a wave of melodies

scented with ash and rose

covered my head

with visions bright

and wondrous.

Air like thorns

shredded my lungs

and showered my blood

with sugared rain falling

from the whistling cloud

of your wine-sweet soul.

I was on bended

broken bleeding knees

when a Spiritman

dressed in rainbows

came towards me

as if dancing, as if crying,

as if not-fully-born,

he pulled me to my feet

then waved one immense black hand

and scattered my senses like dice—

there appeared upon the desert

an entire city

of pearl-covered domes

flashing knowledge and celebration—

he waved his hand a second time

and a boulevard

jeweled with pyramids

stood goldenbronze

beneath your floating shadow.

In the splendid lines

and circles

of that gleaming city

I witnessed my soul

flying among faces

from yesterday and tomorrow,

one calling himself Joseph,

another saying Arabi,

one calling herself Sheba

and another singing Thou-and-I art-One.

And I looked at the Spiritman

to ask what these things meant,

both of his eyes

were filled with your voice

rolling like drums

through my chest,

he spoke

through the lifting of his hands,

each time they rose

a new city breathed in light

and an ancient country

fell to its grave,

I heard no shame

in his song

as he removed his robe

and covered my ignorance,

his fingers traced

“you are loved”

upon my lips

and I walk now

as I saw him walk

partly stumbling/dancing

Lord so drunk

beneath the black fire

of your wings chanting and rising,

my brain staring at the sun

living like a king

inside the beat

of your sweet majestic flight.

2011