Early Poems Xxiii

These are my early poems, or juvenilia... alien by michael r. burch there are mornings in england when, riddled with light, the Blueberries gleam at us— plump, sweet and fragrant. but i am so small ... what do i know of the ways of the Daffodils? “beware of the Nettles!” we go laughing and singing, but somehow, i, ... i know i am lost. i do not belong to this Earth or its Songs. Easter, in Jerusalem by Michael R. Burch The streets are hushed from fervent song, for strange lights fill the sky tonight. A slow mist creeps up and down the streets and a star has vanished that once burned bright. Oh Bethlehem, Bethlehem, who tends your flocks tonight? "Feed my sheep," "Feed my sheep," a Shepherd calls through the markets and the cattle stalls, but a fiery sentinel has passed from sight. Golgotha shudders uneasily, then wearily settles to sleep again, and I wonder how they dream who beat him till he screamed, "Father, forgive them!" Ah Nazareth, Nazareth, now sunken deep into dark sleep, do you heed His plea as demons flee, "Feed my sheep," "Feed my sheep . . ." The temple trembles violently, a veil lies ripped in two, and a good man lies on a mountainside whose heart was shattered too. Galilee, oh Galilee, do your waters pulse and froth? "Feed my sheep," "Feed my sheep," the waters creep to form a starlit cross. I wrote this poem around age 15-16. and yet i am singing ... the sun—so mild; my cheeks are like roses; my skin—so fair. i spent a long time there before i realized: They have no faces, no bodies, no voices. i was always alone. and yet i keep singing: the words will come if only i hear. I believe I wrote "alien" around age 19 as a college freshman or sophomore. Keywords/Tags: early, juvenilia, juvenile, college, school, child, childhood, class, youth, write, writing, voice,