deepundergroundpoetry.com

Sing, the Angel Cried
I will write a poem of thanks
To the unknown wall-builder within
Who says, enough of your discontent.
Asks, can you not hear
Angels on the wind, wings
Beating against your wailing self?
They speak in unknown tongues
And their unsandaled feet tread unknown paths.
For all that, cry out a song of praise.
Praise that today you have eyes to see
That you have walked down
A thousand paths that are but one.
That you have loved a hundred women
In a thousand different settings
Resolved into the beauteous final one.
Honor today rejected Hagar
Lift up the thirsty child
And make your desperate move.
A step, a line, a mistranslation
Of the ululation of an angel with broken wing
Fling dust upon your head, but sing!
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