Drowning Girl

If I'd been a better swimmer
When the flood passed o'er my head,
And the torrents tossed above me
As I sank down with the dead,

I'd have never needed rescued
By a swimmer strong as you,
Who has swum in deeper water
Than have I attempted to,

For I knew I was a goner
When I started first to sink,
But I never knew the water went
Much deeper than I think.

For in drowning there's no bottom,
But the deeper deeper goes,
The abyss has room for more descent,
And it's bottom no one knows

But you. You touched the bottom,
Before you rose again.
You reached me near the middle still
With half left to ascend,

But with no breath left to succor,
And with no life left to live,
There in the belly of that lake
You had one thing to give:

Your hand, though you were dying,
Knew that I was dying, too,
And to die is better, hand in hand,
Than it all alone is to.

And there we died together,
In the middle of the sea
Where the poets go to die alone,
But find those there who still be.

Sangre

Don't tell me I have control over this feeling in my chest.
I'll change my thinking,
Like Siddhartha,
Not wanting you ever again,
Or at least not now,
And never suffering for not
Watching your face,
The parting of your lips,
The breathing through open mouth,
Eyes either asleep or in pain,
Or both,
Half-closed,
Unmooring,
Looking at me,
Hands on my chest,
Crotch on my crotch,
Like basil and oregano,
Cinnamon and nutmeg,
Coriander and thyme.

No, not wanting that,
Cuz I'm not having that.
Instead, I'm just
Writing you a sad and angry poem,
And missing you to sleep.

There,  I did it.
I thought about something else,
And remembered it instead of wanting it.
And I have to admit:
It helped,

But just a little.

It's better when it's on the skin,
When the breath is in the lungs,
The salt on the tongue,
And not in
A poem,
A dream,
Or worse,
A memory.

Husbandry

Make me, O Lord, a Part of Her compleate.
To see Her Body as my own, I pray.
For Her to Me a match was ne'er more meet,
Nor Dusk and Dawn did make a fuller Day.
Our Conversation make to be as One,
Then add to Us the glory of your Son.

Make me Her Foot that I might bear her load,
Her Back that I may stand her gait upright,
Her Heart that I resist what fears forebode,
Her Eyes that I bring Light to darkest night,
For these all She to me already brings,
And from these lungs of mine Her Beauty sings.

Then Cloathe our loins enjoined with girdled waist,
United both in Spirit and in Flesh.
In Holy Matrimony sealed by Grace,
And in Us two may One be formed and Blessed.
Then from this field of Potter's Clay make Bread,
That groweth from where Ash and Dust are wed.

The Heavenly Host

So doth the Word of God
Dwell in paper or in flesh?
Does the Eternal Spirit sing
In poems or in breath?
For the poet liveth now,
And the prophet liveth, too,
But the man of flesh who writes these words
Will die as all men do.
But the Word, it liveth on,
And in new men does dwell,
Where they contrast the Heavenly songs
Against the pens of Hell.
For geese arise in February,
Above a frozen lake,
And though their song be one word long,
The Spirit it doth quake.
For honk from one long neck
Is multiplied by two,
Then soon the two are four, then more,
Then more be added, too.
For when a thousand geese
Swirl 'round above my head,
As I there stand upon the ground,
Still living, not yet dead.
I hear the Spirit sing,
And there within me hear,
The Word of God writ on my heart
And whispered in my ear.
And what it is, God says:
I am, and always will,
For I have been since being was,
Continuing until,
The Spirit hath not will to be,
And only then be still.
For God's eternal voice
Lives only where there's life,
And I assure you, reader, that
This man's alive who writes.
But when this flesh is dead,
And set upon a shelf,
Look no more to this man in who
This life of God has dwelt.
For in that corpse of mud,
That melts within the soil
You will find not a word
That tells you, Yes!
The Spirit bless!
Within me, too, I've heard
That still, same voice
Who gives a choice
To choose or life or death,
For that is He, the Word Who Be,
In me and in His host.