#brokenliturgy

The Sun and Moon would be our sibling rivals Made for balance, still they praise you without measure –   Kestrels sing their compline, great things move in waves and we look up – For bearing, we suppose   But should we stand like Brother Oak, crown canopy cathedral, Or testify on boarders that the walls we’ve built have fallen?   Should our witness be in mountain stone? In glacial walls still climbing or the humility of lowlands, bowed with humble hills, our time as mountains ended?   Put hot coals on our lips and we will sing! of stones and tunnels through them! In graves, from pathogens according to their kind, we will drink the run-off, we will rise and fall on the rhythm of your breath in the heaving of your frame we find ourselves   And we believe you rise.   The dead shall rise, the dead shall rise, and with a shout, release. Part air Part sky Part sea Part sea Moses parts the sea  the cold war kids, the space race tribe, the children of the atom cross    the Earth is wet embrace And we will live forever on the landed sea, the breath of God in waves, in waves, the coming of Our  Lord in time Great Beasts always breaching, the thistle in the whirl-wind the great finch and the thorn, we are children on your breast in the heaving of your frame we find ourselves.