Coal you fly, redwing fire across your shoulders.
Compressed organic witness of the life ago—
on as one, you flock the shadows of the sun
with pride; and pride does turn me on (but so does shame).
When I learned, when my father heard my question:
What bird is that in blackness hidden mid the reeds?
Watch, he said; and as the daylight vessel bled—
a red-wing blackbird brazen fled like my applause.
Two by two, Noah cataloged existence;
so only half there gathered in was meant for me—
only one of the perfect paired election
was saved for me; and I for freedom was redeemed.
Cherubim whisper praise throughout the wetlands,
harmonica cacophonies among the reeds—
Seraphim, with their coals of sanitation
for pride— and I am here (but I am far away)
as you fly; joyous outcry exultations
addressed to me; and we for freedom were redeemed.
You return; and the bliss therein discerned:
perhaps for me have you been formed; and I, for you.
coal you fly
coal you fly
"Every genuinely religious person is a heretic, and therefore a revolutionary" -- GBShaw
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