hymn

the hungry praise of bird©papa osmubal

the hungry praise of bird©papa osmubal


hymn*

–brian vanderlip

1
Dawn is an unfolding,
a lifting up from nothing,
slow shadows unveiling
in the midst of curious
glowing fingers.

Between the dark and the light
the hungry praise of birds
mingles with surreal dreams–
out the eyes, a glory-weave
of leaves and sky and song,
a tapestry of waking.

2
Perhaps, if not right beside you
then inside you where ‘God-has-given’,
some beloved one sleeps peacefully
resting flesh of hope and dream
against your flesh–
the sound of two breaths
measured into unison,
a new music haunted with heartbeats,
the song going up and up.

Your palm drifts, mist-like on my wrist,
a touch like dawn unfolds.


* from What Happens to Memory, The Netherlandic Press, Canada, 1989

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