Poem 8 – We the Mourners

Stanza 8 – here you go!

We the Mourners

We the mourners
roam the land
a planet-sized graveyard
witnessing the body as tombstone
inclined toward the sharp knife of
Love’s lapidarian urges
etching Time wounds
into our skin –
urging the most tears

We the mourners
swallow the sour spaces
between right & wrong
holding the knowledge
of their folly – fools alive
enough to write songs
poems plays paintings
in the lush language of loss
of lust of legends – heads
bowed into palm-praying
hands throats humming

We the mourners
take pride in the stride
of the single falling tear
in the animal-gutteral growls
of the multi-breathed sob
in the rib-shaking depth of the
long-winded wail
cry weep bawl – we bowl
our bodies into the sacred
howls of healing

We the mourners
are bodies built
trench-laden & weaponed
for the onslaught of wars
unceasing on land
in sky in water in
mind in flesh gushing
bloods deviant with
DNA unleashed since
the First Body bloomed
– we weapon with Love

We the mourners
do not forget the first light
the second dark & all the
colourful shadows between
– fiery & untimed unnamed
do not forget before Before
when the body tingled after
flights stardust-drowned
delirious determined
to omit its genesis

We the mourners
strum the nervous system
into freedom – braiding
fight flight freeze zingy
nettles embrace
stinging fingertips
lips bloodied
elegant & ebullient

We the mourners
continue the chants
benedicted protectors
our knees so swollen
we are double-capped
cradled in earth’s
dancing dust –
praising we choir

We the mourners
clutch the One True Prayer
that begins with
the sprawling what if
and never ends
Oh we bead the voices
of the dead lift them
seeding back to the sky