JUBILANT FATHER
His face is like a sun, warms the moon beside him.
She´s grown full; tonight begins the waning.
The tide pulls through her very bones,
her form aches as each wave crests.
The earth pulse, heavy, blood warm within her
Beats new chords, old sun god chants.
"You are the first mother and the last,
all spring flesh has traveled through you."
Aztec plumed and gold beaded,
your priest kneels at the holy alter,
gathers each salt pearl shed, nectar for his sacrament.
You are the temple,
we pilgrims swept through the gates,
bent figures know the scent and petals of your presence,
spread our arms to harvest blossoms,
and your priest, sun struck, kneels beside you.
My mom tells me I'm special, But I know I'm just her trouble. I fall to the ground with a huge thud, And I seem to hear some laughter. I wonder what amuses them so, I wish I could know too. But now, as I sit in this bed, I realize I would never have known. I wouldn't understand their sense of humor. How could they laugh at a dyingchild, Trying to live life as much as they were?
My mom tells me I'm special, But I know I'm just her trouble. My coordination is all wrong, My doctor tells me I'll never Even be able to play ping pong. As I sit here in this bed now, I realize I'll never be able to make it through, Why don't I just give up now? God, why didn't you make me like sister Sally? So that I could be sitting in her spot now Looking so cheery and jolly.
My mom tells me I'm special. And I am no longer her trouble. For now I have recovered. All I do now Is sit up here, on this couch-like cloud. It's really the best view from here; And now I don't regret God not making me like sister Sally. But I still don't understand How some people could laugh at a dyingchild. I wonder what amuses them so, I wish I could know too.
