To Be Reborn
how many deaths must i die
to be reborn....
how many crosses carried,
how many deserts crossed?
how many tears must i cry
(tho they be at night when no one can see) ,
how many bruises, scars...
how many times must i bleed?
if I am not I,
then whose breath this stranger?
whose feet in my shoes?
whose hat on my head?
i stand in the moonlight,
and look at the rafters,
measuring rope inch by inch!
i am quite sure even the snail laughs
at this quarrel between me and me...
i look at the lines beneath my eyes,
and see a small boy,
running naked in the woods.
my tongue betrays me garbling words,
my soul leaps from rooftops,
dreaming i can fly!
am i mad? am i furious? no!
just damn determined,
to walk inside rust,
to taste the starlight in dew!
redemption, the old hand
on the breast of god...
and the song inside
the gutteral moan of time!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Added by Poetry Lover
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