Hallelujah

Hallelujah

Praise the sunlit ghost of falling,
like Casper with a wet blade,
the shade broken in completeness,
champion of chasing sweetness.

Praise the first stone, born
on spoken wings—God’s lonely
Eden depart. Elation, assassin,
singing for blood, from valley sprung.

Praise lost rains, shadow of the fire,
dewfall too sweet to the dragon.
The drunk light of his center
singing out, “Mine!” into morning.

Praise vampire grass, inhaling fresh shade
like meadowlark from mother, like heart
from stake. There’s one Hell, the only
Heaven I’ll pass through on my feet.

Praise the blackbird laid in shadow,
morning its broken-apart world.
I search for more like that.
I drag sunlight for them.

Praise like blackbird give the fuck.
Has to, for the morning.
Get every cross bird arms,
springing on the fell world.

Praise my new take: the cross
is one recreation. When spoken,
that fall morning; the springing
back, the only bird.

Praise my first morning, my first me.
First of them, a fresh no.