Print

(for Vince and Annie Clemente)

You were born glowing
And when the green bird
Landed on you
It left all its songs.

But you preferred silence,
The raindrop of a thought
Shining on a leaf,
A shadow statued in prayer.

The crowds waited like a river,
The poetry of your soul
Would silver the desert,
The aeons of poverty.

You sent them a stone,
They built you a tomb.
You pointed to the moon,
They broke all their mirrors.

Words shone like stars in your mind;
They were not to be sung.
Silence surrounded you
Like the perfume of flowers.

You breathed in the universe,
As you shed each moment
As stiff as a snake
That’s mesmerised by light.

On the edge of morning,
They found you perfected.
You’d made it to god.
They cut down a tree.

You died in the darkness
But glowing inside:
The bright songs of the green bird
Had flown from your mouth.

Peter Thabit Jones © 2016

Published in THE LIZARD CATCHERS by Peter Thabit Jones, 2006