THE HOLY SEED

THE HOLY SEED

Isaiah 6: 9-13

 

I am listening over and over,

and looking. Still I do not comprehend.

How long? How long? I have no country here.

Vast the emptiness in the midst of the land.

Snow clings to everything. But for the wind

the forest could be a Christmas card.

Jays and chickadees crack sunflower seeds;

the cat in the window watches the birds.

Hew and burn and the stump remains standing.

What is required to open closed eyes?

Under the whiteness and wildness of winter,

garbage and excrement, treachery, lies.

 

Turn and be healed. Turn and be healed. Turn and

be healed. Turn and be healed. Turn and be healed.

 

December 10, 2014

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