Crayon on Paper

Tuesday morning & I’m back to being dead.

falling in my dream and lying on the floor

I wake with a start,

I’m a corpse, my useless limbs fall away,

scattered in pieces all around me.

Monday – you held me with your eyes

& said, ‘I’ll be here when you get back’

but we both knew what that meant.

Sunday was the day for sinning.

shouting & crying, till we fell over horse,

laughing like the gods.

Saturday, we sat cross-legged before the dancing box

sugar bombs turned the milk brown & sweet,

filling our restless eyes when we try to sleep.

Wednesday morning & I rise from the dead.

& gather what pieces I can find.

Thursday is the day for soulful prayer,

chanting the old song over & over,

hallelujah, hallelujah,

hallelujah, hallelujah.

Friday, I gather my brush & palette

and sit by the wayside, waiting for the light.

my gift to you of shadow & delight.

Crayon on paper,

a bit of color smudged about.

my thumb’s a brush, my hand’s a color wheel,

my heart spills onto the canvas.

the sun on your hair like gold.

Crayon on paper,

a fragmentary memory

you with your golden hair.

a few strokes to capture a day

lost in time though the color remains.

And remember the day

you foretold when I would die

but you never said a word?

silence & grief; turn to sight,

shadow & form -- death & light.

Whisper it quietly, quietly,

hallelujah, hallelujah,

hallelujah, hallelujah…