The Morning Song

interrupting that news offering
the sacred reading of the bulletin
the interwoven threats of militant godparents
always take you from here to a single stage of tremor

the dancing of nymphs in summer gardens
songs rain in a Victorian morning
light explodes into perfect vision
left your mercy unexplained

the litter you inspected
for the trails of sacred demons
the entrails of the evidence
you sought out with a vigour

the looming of the weather
on this day of all the times
we felt a letter
winding its way through the days and the nights
until it finds us waiting weary
and the opening of the decision
to the consultants and measurings
that tagged along

the closing of an eye
and the light in the rainbow
call me home to dance amoung
shadows and slice into meaning

the leaning of the vessel meant it was not right for travel
and the dictation of the raffle left winners scattered too far and wide

there are morsels for the lonely and the cackle of their motors as
they ride snowy roads through the deceptions of the city