A Song
Known and familiar
Under the little tent of blue
which the prisoners call sky,
In a room of her own
a madwoman dreamt;
Dreamt of the world
that thrived beyond
the curtain of nights,
the dazzle of days,
the prison of being!
In the dream she plucked, threw all
the stars that buttoned the holes
the moon that masked the scar,
the clouds that hid the desolation
across this little tent of blue.
She dreamt slitting it open,
dare throw her head out
to see what all was in the hiding
behind this firmament azure.
God sides with the brave
the brave who put to stake
all they possess, all they own.
Till a blazing cauldron
becomes a rose bed,
or a sharp knife acts blunt
or a deep well drowns a conspiracy
or a wicker basket becomes a lifeboat.
This girl, this brave girl
As she battled through
The boundaries of blue
Jerked hard her feet
To cut the remaining threads
That tied her to gravity. Pop
God rewards the brave!
She found herself colourless,
Formless, fearless, fetterless
Nameless, genderless, creedless
Crackles, painless, scarless
Singing, swirling
In sea of infinite souls
A song, known and familiar.
