As the sun set gold on the first day
of the new year
he climbed to the mountaintop
seeking a place
as thin as the shell of a bird's egg
where he could pray to the
small hobgoblins and great minds
of the heroes of inconsistency -
those trail-less wanderers blazing
New Paths
that great cloud of witnesses
and he waited and
held court in hushed reverence and
prayed in tongues of wood and spirit
The wild birds were the first to show
singing the most ancient psalms
Then, Uncle Ralph rose from the grave
and began drumming
thum thum thum
on the side of a hollow log
a song of unsettled hope
Sister Rachel joined in song
an untiring song of beauty
and mystery
The Healer, King
rose up, too,
and preached a sermon,
saying that darkness can't drive out darkness
and then the sun set
and we all held hands
and prayed onward into the night,
confident that the next day would come
and that
in the meantime
we had each other.
