from the grave

In the twenty-

second hour

today

the moon,

clear and full,

displayed

her birthmarks

as if to say,

“The blemish

is the contour

is the beauty

is the way.”

And we,

isolated as she,

lie crater-deep

in fragile houses,

carving prayers

under granite blankets.

But she who controls the tides

and he who was pierced in the side

can hear our groans

and move the stone

so we,

isolated as s/he,

shall live to see

the day

when we

shall say,

“The blemish

is the contour

is the beauty

is the way.”

………………..

from the grave

by troy cady

.

.

.

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