The Light On The Bridge
Demons feed on me, their beaks dark with blood
but after the dances of pain have passed
I look upon them with a strange fondness
for they have killed what I am not
and chewed away the ropes of skin, that hid my wings
so I laugh the laugh that is bones and dust
and will offer them tea, when they next return this cave
this place of rags, and blood, this place where I must be
Angels drop feathers, minuscule, brilliant
that turn and catch the sun
as they fall in my time of dying
snowstorms of frozen tears, that only the blind can see
and if I breath that ancient breath
that sigh of great lizards and exploding stars
if I pry my white brittle fingers from the ledge
when I am able to fall
I can feel them around me, soft, endless
like the kiss of a thousand butterflies
reminding me that I am whole, that I am seen
that there is love at the center of it all
Empty bodies stumble and reach
their transistor eyes radiate a hunger that is endless
a mechanical perfection
as they masquerade these roles of the damned
form fitted, cleverly cast, they were there all along
from the centurion, to the judge of man
and the ogres that pace these stone halls
and now I know my only shield is acceptance
my only cover the veil of compassion
for there but for fortune go I
And alas, their eyes are scaled
alas, they know not what they do
again, over and over, I fly into the abyss
where grey shapes of the forgotten lay like corpses in the night
and the nine headed chimera who crawls this continent
is none other than life unlived, the hiding places
the crooked smiles and scars of abandonment
yes, this filthy earth, these rib cages
this landscape of lost hope
it is all too familiar, these shallow graves we step over
in the back yard of the soul
Broken, at the bottom of the bone yard
I will wait for my breath
may I have the trust of the newborn
as he winds down the red tunnels of wind and fire
and the faith of the sparrow, with feathers still wet
who flings her small body from the branch
and flys, in the face of falling
Holy spirit, give me perseverance to see the crack of silver
on this dark horizon
that light on the bridge
faint, but giving shape to the waves
on these waters of my resurrection
