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.
Sometimes when I am alone, I cry, Though not a soul knows why. As the world moves spryly by, Tears move tediously through my eye. I cry about life, I cry about death, I don't know what is right, And I don't know what is left. This makes it hard to carry on, Because my soul is gone, What can one do? There is no Samaritan to help this Jew. The world would rather walk on the other side, Than understand what makes me cry. Because if they knew what made me cry, They would weep by my side.
The tears roll down my cheek, The taste of salt bitter on my lips, Just as the taste of the world leaves me weak, My tears leave me battered as if from whips. The whips of pain, The whips I can not contain. I cry, But no one knows why.
I fight through my tears. The same way I fight my fears. Because the World does not care, I continue the journey I can not bare. I cry during my life here, But death I do not fear. Because with death all my fears and tears Will astray, As I will enjoy tranquility in heaven on this day. And when the sun seizes to splash upon the clouds, A new perspective I have vowed. I cry, And now thou knows why.
