The Caged Bear Spies the Angel
The luster of a glisten is enough to elicit bliss The gleam from a beam enough to confound the intellect The crack of a…
Why is it a siren at night sounds like
someone crying for help
or else despairing of help?
Why is it the city at night is like a
single person with disturbed sleep
generally peaceful but now and then
thrashing from side to side
and yelling out
under the imponderable stars?
Tonight perhaps one person in this entire city’s made the
permanent breakthrough into an undying
spectacular radiance that would
light up any number of national
wonders like the Grand Tetons or even
New York itself
yet no one might know of it
but his caged bird or his
insouciant cat
curled up asleep under the chair of epiphany
in the roofless room of the
Divine Presence
whose doors and windows have
exploded with light
Now there’s another siren across town
speeding to its dutiful appointment
and I pray for safe outcome
surrounded by voices of
sweet council and high jubilation
and the newly ascended saintly one might also
be hearing it with me and be
flying to the scene in the Unseen
to see by God’s pure Seeing
what should be done
and by no action of his own
doing it
1/1/11 (from The Caged Bear Spies the Angel)
Categories: Poems