If God could answer

Hanging on the cross

collecting the dross

on the doss

the dole,

of having a soul

what are we but clay pots collecting water?

no we are more and always have been

the views we have seen

the rhythms from the heart

the frequencies of our words

the skies, the birds

the moaning of love making

cell division shaking

through separation

like salt dissolving in water

and yet we are sons and daughters

trying to identify with our identities

yet eventually returning to the soul we came from

our bodies returning to dust

but our soul remains

in the Everglades.

Here lies love

The angels cast into the fire

the saviour on a cross his soul hangs by the wire

hung on a tree for them to see

the angels die and so sleep

They creep into children’s daydreams.

Reincarnated as a hawk like man

It’s his fate to seek the goddess before it’s too late

to bring her back to the kaleidoscopic fold

but he will die alone when he gets old

ghosts are the only ones who believe

they will wait for his soul to be made free

the key to the universe is strength through love

but his mortal coil is the oil which ignites

it’s his fate…