WHISPER

Waiting, quietly, for myself to come in:
A stormy fool dancing inside a bin,
Neglected hope, a broken urn,
I whisper in my ear
Loving self, you’ll be loved in return.

Casting bones amongst the starving
Each chiselled word, a craven carving
Each epithet, an epitaph in stone
I whisper in my ear
Wiser to know than be known.

Straining, chanting to another’s air
A tree, a rope, a falling chair
Last words before the receptive sod
I whisper in my ear
God was you when you were God.