I - a Disruption

Someone wrote for praise today Water on my molding clay You like the hard subject, a gift Of wind without a lift For I would think My world so transparent in words Would explain my link My little flight with birds For things of the poet's heart Are not the tangibles of our life Though by tangibles we break apart And enter vile vortex of strife I care for every forest razed Every broken wing of child Every woman raped, battered, daze Every soldier wounded in the fight I am the echo of art, the points Of negotiation with powerlessness The sacrifice that love appoints I disrupt coherence of selfishness And will confront kings and citadels A vulture at the rotten heart A dog to bark and bite at infidels I am the conscience in the art. This is my gift, my task, my delight To be a candle in starless windy night To tell the disillusioned you are right To take to hell the gospel's fight And proclaim God's kingdom come So love is not an easy chair for me Not noble dreams of figment freedom I am its better memory.