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.