There are several close-knit statues---
facing Jerusalem.
Men bang on their knees
like drums.
Mud of the earth
shakes and dries to coal.
O how distinct conversations have awakened me.
O how pitch black desert hair
flips underwater, swims
in the dark of night.
O to see your laughing,
morning face.
Violins wail as ships flutter
to their ocean-floor deaths,
iron consuming iron.
And cosmic awakenings.
Rifts across the skies.
Indigo dreams.
Cotton stained navy
from Israel tears.
O Zion how your empire has
woken me up from a single
beauty, a son in early winter.
How one conversation,
How one single fact.
Has made everything shatter and rearrange.
A man exists, the same lineage as Christ.
