Who Are We
Suddenly out of the black swamp a gush of green
Miraculously before the eyes a flush of white
You are the resurrection, I am the dead, clean
Skin coming to earth again, the showers of delight
Can wash this fate away
Man and flowers, only clay.
I praise your birth, you will fragrant my death
I shall be your earth, you speak to my hope
A picture of the soul on starry wings of breath
Your white petals praying bottom of the slope
Bright as faith in a child’s eyes
Out of Easter mud – a glimpse of paradise
Three perspective of mud upon my questions rest
Hierarchies of desire in Pilate’s hall of selfishness.
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